


Raining in January

by Duskfire



Series: Raining in January [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Cheating, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Mute!Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Oneshot, don't know how to tag, no beta we die like they/thems, okay, ooc characters i'll fix, sorry - Freeform, time-skipping, very slow burn, your bad attitude i won't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskfire/pseuds/Duskfire
Summary: Alexander Hamilton had problems. Three, in fact. The first was that he was mute. The second involved him not being able to write. The third, as most thirds do, has a name. John Laurens.In which John Laurens is Alexander's main problem.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & George Washington & Martha Washington, Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, George Washington/Martha Washington
Series: Raining in January [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726372
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Raining in January

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is the third time I've published and unpublished this, so I'm just leaving it here. Okay. Yeah.   
> I know some of you may be going, 'This is the third time I've seen this title?!?'. I'm sorry, kinda doubting the layout of all of my books. So.  
> I think it would be better to publish this as an actual one-chapter type thing, and maybe make it into a chapter book later? Let me know, I guess?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this.

_ Clack. _

_ Click. _

The keyboard shakes as it’s furiously typed on, the gleam of the screen bright in the dark room. Glasses are pushed up, dark bags under violet eyes. Red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, strands flying out of it. 

Alexander Hamilton was writing. He needed to write, right at this moment. Even if it hurt him.

Jagged breaths emitted out of his mouth, his eyes closing. He furiously pushed away the computer, tossing his glasses across the room. His hands tangled up in his hair, and Alexander fell off of his chair with a  _ thud _ . 

Footsteps were outside of his room, walking down the long hallway. A beat of silence passed. 

“Alexander?” Was the muffled question, a deep male voice from the door. 

Alexander didn’t reply, only turning away from the door. Fury raced through him, and Alexander grit his teeth. The door was open with a creak, light shining onto the floorboards. 

“Alexander, are you alright?” The voice asked, but Alexander didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to.

He shook his head, tears burning in his violet eyes. His hands shook, the dark room in front of his blurring. It was  _ unfair.  _ So unfair.

“What was it, son?” The man across from him asked, sitting next to him. 

Alexander lifted his shaking hands, and signed, “ _ I’m not your son. _ ” He glared at George Washington.

Alexander was a special case. He’d been born in Nevis, Caribbean, unable to talk. His mother died when he was 12, and from then on he’d been in and out of foster homes. The Washington family was the one to formally adopt him, and Alexander was already 16. 

Ice drifted into Washington’s gaze. “Alexander, what’s wrong?” He didn’t address the way Alexander had snapped back at him, as Washington was prone to do. That made Alexander confused, so he raised his head and glanced up at Washington with violet eyes. 

“ _ I couldn’t write. _ ” Alexander signed, his pale hands trembling. He had a single scar over his knuckles from when he’d cut himself from a nail in Nevis. 

Washington sighed, his eyes closing. “You’d better get some rest, Alexander.” He murmured. “You have school in the morning.”

Alexander only looked away. He hated school. It was loud and made his heart rate spike, and his mind spin. There, he always needed to write until his hands ached. Except the writing was on a paper, not a computer. He couldn’t just  _ write _ . He had to think, then write, then think again. 

He heard the door close, light fading from the dark room. It revealed an unused bed with pillows, a desk, and a window. The desk had his computer on it and a single picture, one of his mother. Alexander’s mother was beautiful, with short red hair and brown eyes. She had pale skin with a light dash of freckles over it. 

But she died.

Alexander stood up and put the computer back where it originally was. He sat down on the chair, feeling a soft sort of shame as his miniature temper tantrum. He needed to write. 

His fingers ghosted over the keyboard. 

_ Clack. _

_ Click. _

<<<>>>

Alexander slung his bag over his shoulder, closing the door as he gulped down his last cup of coffee. The warm, bitter taste stung his tongue, and he winced. Alexander always had liked his coffee with sugar in it, but they’d run out of sugar that morning. 

He walked down the street, briefly closing his eyes. Alexander had always stood out because of his red  _ red _ hair and his purple ( _ violet) _ eyes. He practically had award-winning looks, although it was ruined by the dark bags underneath his eyes and the frown that was always present on his face. 

Alexander bumped into someone and hastily apologized, continuing along his way. He didn’t notice the magenta shirt, nor the poofy hair that turned his way. 

He quickly walked down the hallways of his school, the noise levels around him at max. He had never liked crowds or loudness much, and although he’d been going to this school for easily a year, it had never gotten old. 

He walked to his locker, the metallic tang of it buzzing underneath his fingertips. Alexander spun the dial, internally counting the numbers.  _ 11… 43… 28 _

His locker opened, and he knelt down to put his things in it, before closing the locker and heading towards his classes. His first period was English, where he sat in a row with two others. One had poofy hair, while the other was called turtle guy. Alexander didn’t know why, he’d never really had a ‘talk’ with them. 

Alexander sat down into his seat, placing his bag on the floor and pulling out a notepad and a black pen. He knew sign language but his teacher had never really bothered to learn. 

“Hey, do you know last nights’ homework?” The turtle guy talked with another person near him. They’d always done that. 

He tilted his head, trying to remember the other guy’s name…  _ Lofeyte? Mulegan? _ He didn’t recall. 

“Yeah.” The nameless person sighed, looking utterly defeated. “I- I didn’t complete it. You?”

Turtle guy looked away sheepishly, his brown eyes flicking to the side. “Heh… About that, can I borrow yours? I just need to write down the answers!”

“Seriously, John?” The nameless guy asked, one of his brown eyebrows raising up. “I- I can’t believe you…”

“Please?” Turtle guy-  _ John _ \- asked, his curly hair amassed into a ponytail, strands popping out. 

“No, I said I- I wouldn’t do that again.” The nameless guy shook his head firmly. 

Alexander looked away, focusing on his notepad. His hands started to shake, and Alexander sighed. A loud bell rang out, making him flinch. 

Everyone rushed to their seats, and Alexander stared ahead. An adult who wasn’t their teacher walked in. 

“Hello, students!” She piped. “My name’s Martha Washington, I’m your substitute for the day. Sorry, but Mr. Seabury is sick.”

“Yes!” John shouted loudly, earning him a few looks and laughs. He grinned over at the nameless guy, who smiled back. 

Alexander sighed.  _ This is going to be a long day. _ He thought. 

And it was. 

<<<>>>

Alexander sat at his computer, staring at the screen. His hands shook as he pressed them to the keyboard. Instead of him typing away, all he heard was a soft  _ click _ of the spacebar. 

He couldn’t write. 

Alexander calmly turned away, tears building in his eyes. Something hollowed inside of him, and Alexander wanted to scream. But he  _ couldn’t and it was so unfair- _

He pulled his hair out of it’s low ponytail, wiping furiously at his eyes. Alexander didn’t cry. He wasn’t- he wasn’t a crybaby. 

Sorrow tore at him, and Alexander dug into his book bag. Papers with frenzied writing on them flew out of his crowded bag, and he quickly pulled out his notepad. His hands shook so much he couldn’t pick up a pen, and he could feel that familiar panic building up inside of him-

Alexander had to write to survive. It’s what got him through the hurricane, through Nevis, through those terrible foster homes. Alexander lived on writing, he lived on the sound of the keyboard, the numbness that accompanied his writing. 

He had to-

Alexander pulled out his homework and began on the problems, his mind whirling. His hands were shaking, and the pencil in his hand shook so much he couldn’t discern his writing. It was  _ dark and dark and dark- _

Wind swirled around him for a second, a distinct whoosh of water sprinting towards him. 

<<<>>>

Alexander sat at his desk, boredom whittling away at his mind. A pencil was spun in his shaking hands, flying up, then down, then up again. The wood was smooth on his fingertips, the cool whispering of it flying through the air.

“Hey!” Turtle guy-  _ John _ \- yelled as a person started to root through his bag. “I need that!” He stretched up, tottering in his chair. Pale hands reached for the backpack, snatching it up as papers fluttered to the floor.

Alexander blinked, looking over at the situation. The guy was in a magenta coat, with a single pink rubber band around his wrist. He had poofy brown hair, with narrowed, almost-black eyes. 

“Do you?” The guy drawled, an accent tainting his voice. Alexander just slumped and looked away, turning to his pencil again. He stuck it onto the paper and started to draw lines, the graphite making a  _ shhh _ sound on the notepad. 

Alexander looked up at the clock, the quiet  _ tick _ of the second hand drowned out by the loud chatter of students. The time was 8:34, twenty minutes until the end of class. Alexander sighed heavily, laying his head onto his desk with a soft thud. 

“Yes!” The turtle guy’s voice, an almost baritone but not quite, rose above the talking. He was fuming, his ears turning pink and his brown eyes glaring harshly at the magenta person. He looked absolutely-

“Do we have a problem here, boys?” The teacher asked, lifting her glasses up and raising a thin eyebrow. It was Martha again, or as Alexander knew her, Mrs. Washington

“He won’t give me back my homework!” The turtle guy’s foot tapped against the floor, a loud sound in the now quiet classroom. 

“Thomas, do you need to be sent into the office,  _ again _ ?” Martha asked, her head tilting to the side. She stressed the word ‘again’, a clear threat. 

Alexander didn’t say anything to the magenta boy as he passed by Alexander’s desk. The magenta boy was muttering lowly underneath his breath, soft yet angry words. Interest sparked inside of Alexander, like a small gust of wind inside of him. 

His pencil grated against the paper. 

And Alexander felt the urge to write again. His fingers twitched, his eyes already closing. He imagined the smooth keyboard underneath his hands, the fast typing he would do. The sound of the  _ click clack click _ then the soft  _ tap _ of the spacebar. And then the silent pause for when he would think about what to write next. 

“Jefferson’s a jerk.” A loud voice made Alexander’s eyes open, and he blinked. Panic raced inside of him as he thought the voice was talking to him, the mute, but no, it was the nameless guy talking to the turtle guy. 

“Mhm.” The turtle guy made a soft sound of agreement, leaning onto the palm of his hand. The turtle guy sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing and his face morphing into a look of utter defeat. Freckles danced on his face before he looked at the nameless guy. 

“Herc, what am I gonna do? The homework is due tomorrow and I have no idea how to finish it.” The turtle guy groaned, slamming his head onto his desk with a loud thud. 

Alexander blinked.  _ Herc _ ? He thought, looking at the nameless guy. So the nameless guy was named Herc. 

Odd.

Alexander turned back to his paper, idly doodling on it. Soft grey lines were on the blank white page, and before Alexander knew it, class had ended. 

Only for his trouble to begin. 

“Hey!” The turtle guy suddenly walked over, grinning at him. It looked almost uneasy, or shy. His hazel eyes danced downwards. Alexander had thought the turtle guy had brown eyes, but he didn’t.

Alexander turned around, his eyes blinking as the turtle guy paused in front of him. His pale hands were on his knees, and the turtle guy panted. 

“Sorry! It’s just that Herc told me you were a certified ‘smart kid’.” The turtle guy said. “And I need help with my homework. Sorry if you don’t want to help, I just really need something to work with.”

Alexander blinked, shock pouring into him. It felt like running right into a brick wall, bruising your nose and making your eyes water. He turned back around and continued to walk to his next class.

“Wait! I- I wasn’t asking to cheat off of you or anything!” The turtle guy walked by him. “I should probably introduce myself. I’m John Laurens! What’s your name?”

Alexander looked over at the taller male before he pulled his notebook out. He smoothly wrote onto the paper.  _ My name’s Alexander Hamilton. _

The turtle guy blinked, taking the notebook from him and then handing it back. “Are you mute? Wait, that’s a rude question. Sorry, I can’t really control what comes out of my mouth sometimes.” John chuckled, a soft sound that made him seem shy. He raised his arm and rubbed the back of his neck almost uncaringly, sending a smile towards Alexander. 

Alexander blinked again, before writing furiously in his notebook. He passed it to John, before looking at a nearby clock and blanching. Alexander rushed to his class with thirty seconds left to spare, a  _ thump _ of his bag landing harsly onto the floor. The classroom went quiet, and Alexander sighed. 

The teacher walked in and began his lesson. Alexander concentrated, forgetting he didn’t have his notebook. 

<<<>>>

He tore through his bag, papers floating across the room in delicate swirls. Books landed onto the wooden floor with a heavy, resounding thud. The overhead light flickered as a book was tossed at the wall, the pages  _ fluttering _ closed. 

Red hair flew into his vision, and Alexander carefully pulled it back. Everything spun for a second, and Alexander silently sighed. A knot rose in his throat, his vision blurry-

“Did you find it yet, Alexander?” Washington was suddenly right across from him, crouching down and picking up a book. 

Alexander harshly shook his head. His hands shook minutely, his heartbeat racing in his ears.  _ Thudump. Thudump. _

“ _ I couldn’t find it. _ ” Alexander signed furiously, his hands digging into his now-empty bag. Pencils were scattered across the room.

His ideas were in the notebook, important details about his classes. Lessons, answers to questions, everything was in that notebook. Alexander couldn’t write, dizzy with worry.

If he failed school, he failed at everything and then nothing would ever be okay. He would get a dead-end job at a fast food place filled with loud people, not able to call out orders because he was-

“Breathe, Alexander.” Washington sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll turn up in the morning. For now, get some sleep. Good night, son.”

And then Washington was closing the door to his room before Alexander could protest. 

He lifted his hands and signed anyway. 

“I' _ m not your son. _ ”

<<<>>>

Alexander slid into his desk, a pencil in his hand. Before he could pull out anything, the turtle guy- John walked up to him. 

“Hey, you forgot to grab this back.” John handed his notebook to him, and Alexander blinked. He smiled and grabbed his notebook, something welling up inside of him. 

“ _ Thank you. _ ” Alexander signed, forgetting that John probably didn’t know sign language. He opened his notebook, noticing a small tear on the front page. 

“Sorry, my turtle got to it. She liked to eat paper.” John grinned at him, his hazel eyes shining slightly. “And class is about to start, so I’ll get back into my seat.” 

John walked away, going to talk with Herc. Alexander blinked, knowing that class wasn’t about to start. They still had five minutes left, after all. 

His pencil made a soft  _ swoosh _ on the paper as Alexander began to draw lines. Soft grey ruined the white paper, neat lines forming rows. His smile disappeared from view as if it was never there, and Alexander sighed. 

Their substitute walked in, and the class started, everyone rushing into their seats. Clothing rippled like a droplet falling into a pool of water, a sea of yelling and quiet chatting. It reminded him of dark clouds, blacker than night.

Water roared in Alexander’s ears, his fingers clinging tightly to bark. A metallic scent of water hung in the air. 

Then it stopped as Martha calmed the classroom down. “Okay, class! Your homework, the essay you had to do, should be done today. Turn it in right now, and we’ll get started on the rest of today!” 

Alexander dug into his backpack for his folder, noticing John do the same. Alexander slid open his folder, pulling out his essay and walking to the front of the class. His head was held high, every step assuring him that the ground wasn’t shaky. Alexander’s red red  _ red _ hair was swept out of the way, his violet eyes gazing darkly around the room. 

He slid his essay into the bin, and turned back towards his desk. Each step was accompanied with a soft  _ tap _ . Step  _ tap _ , step  _ tap _ , step  _ tap.  _ Each step was accompanied with the feeling of accomplishment, and Alexander was proud that he’d made it to and from the front of the classroom. 

He slid into his desk and quietly pulled out his notebook. His pencil stabbed the white, blank sheet of paper. Blue lines flew across it, a few shades darker than the sky. He listened carefully to Martha’s soprano voice, his pencil flying across the page. He wrote down what he thought was important, to the  _ tick _ ticking of the clock. 

_ Tick.  _

He finished up the sentence, neat handwriting from practice failing him. Martha spoke quickly and loudly, her hazel eyes shining with excitement. 

_ Tick. _

_ Tock.  _

<<<>>>

Alexander leaned against the wall, his eyes drooping. His head swam as if he were back in the swirling water, screaming for his mother. Blackness hit him, lulling him to a sense of safety. Sleep claimed him in it’s comforting arms, dragging him down into a corner of his room. 

He woke often when he slept, purple eyes springing open to dance around the room. He was searching for something, but he didn’t know what. Alexander was confused, majorly so.

Alexander sprang up from his troubled dreams, going to his computer. His hands trembled as he typed the password in, sliding back his chair and plopping into it. Alexander didn’t cry. He couldn’t, it’d been considered odd for  _ boys _ to  _ cry. _

He held back his tears with a swallow, and opened his story file. He started to write, the sound of keys hitting the room. Alexander typed furiously, his eyes flitting closed. He remembered where the keys were without having to look at them. For now, he could type whatever came to mind. 

A picture of his mother’s face popped up.

Alexander opened his eyes again, forcefully writing about other things. He wrote about the day, the week, anything but the main problem he had. 

_ Click. _

_ Click click tap. Click click click-tap.  _

Fingers flew across the keyboard like a pianist would play on their instrument. 

And he wrote a story as if the story was his voice.

_ Click. Click. _

_ Clack. _

<<<>>>

**John's** **POV**

John looked over at his friends, sighing. His brown curly hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and he blinked. 

“Guys, I don’t know…” He frowned, adjusting his bag. “He’s a  _ mute _ . He can’t speak, which is odd.”

“Oui, but he needs friends.” Lafayette said, shrugging. “Why not have us as ami?” 

“Translation, Lafayette. We’re English, not french.” Hercules deadpanned, sliding on his bandanna as they walked out of school grounds. 

“Sooo, what should we do about homework? Mr. Seabury was ruthless with it, but so far Mrs. Martha hasn’t assigned us any…” John piped in, an easy-going grin on his face. “And I’m loving it!”

“Speaking of loving it, why not stop by McMadison?” Hercules said, blinking. His dark brown eyes stood out from the rest, because they looked almost black. “I heard James Madison’s father runs the entire chain.”

“No duh, Einstein.” John drawled out lazily. “It’s like we have our own genius.”

“Oui.” Lafayette agreed immediately. “Although he’s failing his math class.”

Hercules flushed, his ears going red. “It’s not my fault the class is hard!”

John just sighed, staring at his bickering friends. He grinned as Hercules tripped and fell down, laughing along with Lafayette as Hercules jumped up, dusting himself off. 

“Did you complete the Bio homework?” John asked, trying to diffuse the coming argument. 

Hercules blinked, grinning easily. “Yep. Bio’s actually pretty easy-” His face went blank. 

“Herc?” Lafayette asked, poking Hercules’s arm. “You okay?”

He still stood there. John chuckled softly as Hercules started to wilt. “Herc?”

“I forgot about work!” Hercules shouted, sprinting off. “Bye!” He waved behind him, turning the corner. 

“Speaking of which, this is my stop.” Lafayette said, running a hand through his poofy hair. It was tied into a curly ponytail, and his eyes glinted with intelligence. “Au revoir, Laurens.”

“Bye, Laf.” John grinned as Lafayette turned away. He continued to walk, loneliness growing with each step. His grin turned into a frown as he turned a corner and started to walk down the sidewalk. John counted each step. 

_ One, two, three. _ He stepped over the crack.  _ One, two. _ He stepped over the crack in the sidewalk.  _ One, two, three. _

Everything came crashing in on him, and John stopped paying attention to his steps. He started paying attention to the house in front of him, because the growing horror in his heart told him to. It weighed heavily inside of his chest, his footsteps echoing in the quiet neighborhood. They slammed onto the sidewalk, walking onto the grass to his front door. 

And sure enough, John heard yelling. He raised his trembling hand, and opened the door. The sight that John saw made his fists clench, and he ran into the house, throwing himself in front of his younger sister.

<<<>>>

Alexander typed furiously on his computer, letting his emotions run wild. He smiles softly, his heart racing as he continues to scroll. Alexander had forgotten about what he’d written even before his mother died, before everything became  _ dark dark dark- _

Alexander quickly made a new entry, his fingers quickly starting a new sentence. He wrote in his story, letting his emotions guide his tone. When he grew up and looked back at this, he would feel these emotions again. 

His eyes closed briefly, an image of swirling water appearing in his mind. Everything changed when he’d gotten on the boat to America. Everything.

Alexander sighed, shutting his computer off. The screen’s glow, once lighting up the room, faded. The room went to a nightmarish black.

Alexander flopped onto the floor, grabbing a blanket from his bed. He curled up in a small corner, leaning against a wall. The cold of it dug into his back, his shoulder blades  protruding from his back. His thin frame shook as Alexander finally slipped off to sleep.

<<<>>>

He stared blankly in front of him, his pencil making a harsh grating sound against the paper.  _ Skkrtch. Skkrtch.  _

His hand was trembling. Dark, angry lines formed on the pure white paper. The class was  _ loud _ today, filled with laughing and joking. Alexander felt like he should panic, like he  _ would _ panic, but he couldn’t because everything was n u m b .

The sound of a pencil snapping attracted John’s attention. But Alexander didn’t care, he just dug in his bag for another pencil. His fingers twitched briefly, as if he was writing out his issues already. 

Alexander had many problems. But writer’s block was never one of them. 

His violet eyes glared harshly at a nearby student who brushed against his arm, his hands trembling. Alexander tried to imagine what the keys felt like, but all he felt was a choking darkness that pressed inside of him.

“Alexander!” A carefree, easy-going voice sounded next to him. “How have you been, mon amie?” 

Alexander looked over, darting to take in the person. He had hair pulled back into a high ponytail, dark in colour and poofy. His brown eyes glinted with intelligence, his tan skin blemish-less. 

Alexander flipped to a new page and wrote:  _ I don’t know you. How can we be friends? _

The man standing next to his seat grinned, pearly white teeth showing. “My name is Marquis de Lafayette.” 

_ Alexander Hamilton _ , He wrote. The pencil made calm, smooth strokes on the paper.  _ It’s a pleasure to meet you. _

Alexander pushed a lock of his red hair back, blinking. The taller man’s face morphed into excitement, a bright look in his eyes. 

“You know French?” The man said. Alexander nodded, his hands shaking slightly. His mother had taught him French and Spanish, although she hadn’t finished teaching him Spanish before she died. 

Alexander looked away as the bell rang, leaving Lafayette scrambling to go back to his seat. His fingers danced over his paper, a hidden melody of a new entry. 

The teacher droned on as the clock started to tick loudly in the room, hands shooting upwards. Answers were loudly called out, every sound multiplying in his ears. He could hear the tapping of John’s foot nearby, impatience in every sound. 

Alexander tightly closed his eyes, his heart beating faster. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and Alexander wiped it away. Everything started to shrink, black edging in at the corners of his vision. 

He raised his hand, letting the teacher know he needed to leave. His hands trembled as Alexander stood up, grabbing his things and quickly packing them. His breath shook as he stumbled out of the classroom, leaning against the wall. It dug into his back, the coldness piercing through his thin shirt. 

Alexander pulled on his hoodie and stood up fully, the world still spinning. His heart was pounding in his ears, and the soft  _ tap tap _ of his shoes on the floor echoed in his mind. 

_ Tap, tap. _

Alexander continued to walk down the empty hallway, leaving his classroom behind. Black dots danced before his vision, his breaths feeling like not-breaths. His lungs tightened, and Alexander tried to breathe in but he couldn’t and oh god-

_ Tap, tap, tap. _

Alexander stopped walking once he turned the corner, his legs shaking. He felt weak, almost like he was going to faint. Alexander couldn’t breathe, his entire body shaking. He collapsed against the wall, curling his knees to his chest. It was tight and comfortable and  _ safe- _

His eyes closed, and Alexander let out a small breath. He tried to take in more air, but he couldn’t and he was going to pass out-

Alexander’s head spun, his heartbeat thumping faster and faster and faster. It was almost like when Alexander typed, the keys clicking loudly in his mind. It echoed in his head, his fingers twitching. 

_ Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump. _

_ Click, click, clack.  _

Alexander saw nothing but black, his thin frame shaking as he soundlessly tried to gasp for air. Tears collected in his eyes, watering down his red eyelashes. His hair was frizzled, the ponytail already having strands pop out of it. 

_ Ba-dump. Ba-thump. _

_ Click-ity clack. Click-ity clack. _

Panic and numbness gripped his chest, squeezing onto his heart. He felt like needles were stabbing into his lungs and head, leaving him panicking even more. Everything was falling apart, and Alexander couldn’t-

He couldn’t breathe, oh god he was going to die. Alexander didn’t want to die-

But Alexander couldn’t speak, so what was the point?

His voice was never there, his personality not showing. Alexander had been born with a lot of things to say, a lot of wishes to be vocally made. 

It was terrifying, utterly terrifying for Alexander. He was messed up, his head scrambled like scrambled eggs. The hurricane, his mother dying, everything had led to this moment of Alexander finally falling apart. 

And the worst part of it all was that he couldn’t even tell anybody about it. After all, why would anyone want to speak with a mute?

<<<>>>

Alexander stared at the lump of mashed potatoes, a thin, brown gravy spread over it. The smell drifted up to his nose, making his stomach growl softly. He poked it, surprised it wasn’t moving. The school food was usually disgusting. 

He picked up his fork, dipping it into his food. He quickly pulled it away and sniffed the mashed potatoes clumped thickly on his fork. Alexander quickly decided that he wasn’t going to eat today. 

He set down his fork, tossing his food away. Even when the school lunch was good, Alexander rarely ate. His stomach growled again, and Alexander stood up. He calmly walked out of the lunchroom, ignoring the gaze locked on his back. 

He hated eating in front of other people anyway. It made him more self-conscious than he already was, and that was saying something. 

<<<>>>

Alexander’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his mind whirling. His entire body felt numb yet alive with emotion, his mind sparkling as words appeared on the page. His hand ached, and he was pretty sure that he was developing a cramp in his wrist. 

But Alexander didn’t care. He was finally doing something that mattered to him, writing. Alexander had always written since he first learned how. It was like his voice, but not at the same time because Alexander never had a voice. He wasn’t even sure how it sounded like.

His hands trembled, clicking emitting from his computer. His eyes narrowed at his computer, the glow of the screen stinging at his violet eyes. He raised a hand, softly stroking a singular strand of his red hair. 

His mother had had this color of hair. It was the only thing Alexander had inherited from his mother. It was the only thing he had left of her, other than her picture. It was the only thing-

Alexander shook his head, trying to stop the memories of popping up in the thick darkness that clouded his being. It pulsated around his mind, a memory of laughing and a kind, sweet smile. It was a memory filled with warmth, a soft voice. His mother had been the best person in his world. 

He couldn’t go down that hole. He couldn’t, it would only sting and burn until there was nothing left of him-

Alexander took a deep breath. It was a quiet  _ whoosh  _ sound, almost like the slightest of breezes. Which is really what air is, just the slightest breeze. 

He exhaled, his shoulders drooping. Alexander reached forwards with trembling, always shaky hands and quietly turned off his computer. The tapping of his mind had stopped, the will to write had completely ended. The computer’s soft hum was now silent in the dark, dark room.

Alexander didn’t know what to write about. 

And that physically pained him.

<<<>>>

Alexander closed his eyes, thumping his head against his desk. His red hair dusted over his shoulders, some strands popping out of his ponytail. For the past week, Lafayette and his friends have been talking to Alexander. 

He didn’t know why, he couldn’t talk. There wasn’t anything remotely interesting about him, the  _ mute _ . Alexander wasn’t friendship material. The first time he’d tried to be hadn’t turned out very well for anyone. 

Alexander, although mute, had a sharp tongue. If you could understand him, he signed scathing retorts. They cut you like paper cuts, or like someone’s voice who wasn’t heard being heard after years. 

Maybe Alexander had a problem. But writer’s block was never one of them. Gleaming violet eyes opened, staring out at the classroom with interest. There was a conservation involving- what was his name? Thomas? Yeah, a conservation with Thomas in it. 

The male was standing almost exactly in the middle of the classroom, his hands waving about in excitement. Southern accented words were pouring out of his mouth, each ‘r’ associated with a slight tongue roll. Alexander wanted to grasp the words and speak them out loud, but he couldn’t. 

“Everyone that’s anybody, there’s a party in two days at the Jefferson Mansion!” Thomas said, the pink scrunchie on his wrist catching Alexander’s attention. Everything spun for a second as the room cheered, yells echoing across the ceiling and landing in Alexander’s ears. It went dark for a slight second, and Alexander opened his eyes. 

His hands had dug into his palms, red dots of blood dripping down his pale skin. It was stark stark stark, and it made a drip  _ drip _ sound. 

_ Drip _

It went on the tiled floor, muddy, dirty footprints piled on the floor. Red on the floor, a soft red red red that made Alexander choke up. That was the same red that’d been on his wooden floors, the same red red red that had come out of his mother’s mouth. 

_ Drip drip drip _

_ Drip drip drip _

Alexander quickly packed up his things, his hands trembling. His notepad had a small smear of red on it, and jagged breaths emit out of his mouth. Everything was loud, too loud and everywhere. Alexander couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think think think-

Alexander walked out of the classroom, his mind needing to think. It was quiet in the hallway, the only sound was the soft  _ tap _ tapping of his shoes. Alexander leaned against the wall, sliding down with a  _ whoosh _ .

His palms were smeared red. A dark, crimson red like that of the one that splattered against the white porcelain. 

Red red red-

Alexander couldn’t. He couldn’t, not today, not now. His breath shook in his mind, every silent gasp echoed in his brain. Swift, almost choking sounds emitted from his throat. His head felt hot, his eyes were heavy. His cheeks were warmed, and everything swam around him in colourful blurs. Alexander couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t breathe or think and oh god.  _

_ Wind shrieked around him, water flying up. The rain pierced into his skin, making glancing spots of red. His mother was holding him in the hurricane, her cold body pressed against his. The wind hurt like Alexander had been slapped-(how about “the wind flew across  _ _ alexander's _ _ face sharply, feeling like needles’? Or something of the like.) _

“Are you okay, Alexander?” A kind voice. A soft voice, like his mother’s, but it was scared and trembling. There was a slight roll to the ‘r’. 

Alexander looked up with purple eyes, his locking with the turtle boy’s. 

Alexander nodded, because he was okay. He was he was he was. 

Alexander had to be okay. 

_ Drip drip drip _

Went the blood on the tiled floor. 

_ Tap tap tap. _

Went the shoes hesitantly walking towards him.

And finally,

_ Drip drip. _

Went the tears in Alexander’s eyes.

<<<>>>

Everything went in and out of focus, and Alexander had to blink. Blinding white surrounded him and Alexander rubbed weakly at his eyes. His mouth felt dry, his head pounding in symphony with his heartbeat. Alexander blinked again. 

“ _ Washington _ ?” Alexander signed with trembling, heavy hands. It felt like the light inside of his room was piercing through everything and his head hurt still. He wanted water. 

Washington stood in front of him, the very edges of his head glowing. It was like Washington was the light that blotted out the sun. His mouth opened. “Hey, Alexander. You fainted in school. You okay?”

“ _ I’m in a hospital, does it look like I’m okay? _ ” Alexander signed, raising an eyebrow. His hands fumbled for the cup of water at the very edge of the nightstand. The refreshing liquid soothed his throat, and Alexander coughed. 

“Take it easy, Alexander.” Washington said. “I’ll go let the doctor know you’re awake.”

There was a harsh, cold tone inside of his voice that grated on Alexander’s nerves. It sent sparks like steel clashing against steel, and Alexander had to look away. His purple eyes studied the floor, trying to soothe his hot-blooded retort. 

Washington was mad at him. Alexander didn’t like it. There was something inside of that man that reminded Alexander of his own dad, when his dad had been at his very best. And that had been when he was younger, almost young enough to not realize that his dad wasn’t an actual dad.

“Alexander, how are you feeling?” An unfamiliar voice, like a high-pitched soprano almost. Her voice slightly cracked. 

Alexander looked over, noticing the doctor’s coat over her baby blue uniform. The nametag read  _ Isabel _ , and he blinked. That name sounded familiar. 

“ _ Good _ .” Alexander lifted his hands up and signed quickly, pushing back a lock of his red hair with a pinky. Alexander blinked softly at the woman, wondering what she was doing here. 

“You’re not good, Alexander. According to your file, here, you should be of regular weight by now.” Isabel lectured. Alexander instantly knew why she was familiar. Isabel had been his doctor the last time Alexander had arrived here.

“ _ I’ve been eating regularly. _ ” Alexander signed, looking over at Washington, who just sighed. “ _ I have! _ ” 

Isabel huffed. “Alexander, you’re severely underweight by ten pounds still. Ten!” She threw up her arms, rolling her hazel eyes. “You said-”

“ _ Not said. _ ” Alexander signed, glaring over at the doctor. Isabel was his ‘pediatrician’, whatever that meant. She charted his weight and height, which admittedly, was still short. Alexander was about 5 '5, and about 103 pounds.

“Fine. Not said, but you  _ promised _ that you would start eating lunch. We might have to put you on an eating plan again, Alexander.” Isabel said, adjusting her red glasses. 

Alexander huffed, rolling his eyes as she turned away. Anger pulsed underneath his skin, making his toes curl. He bit his lip, trying to hold back his shaking hands. It wasn’t really working, everything he did was stained a brilliant crimson red. It was a small splash of anger, his eyes narrowing at the tiled floor. 

Alexander hated being at the hospital. He’d been here one to many times, after his mother had died and every few months since then. Washington was probably rich. 

Alexander grit his teeth and looked away. 

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t, it wasn’t. He swore. 

He promised that it hadn’t been. 

_ A little boy, about 13, stood in front of the waiting room door. His trembling hands were raised to the doorknob, but as he did, a woman bundled out. Her tear streaked face stood out to Alexander, her brown eyes glaring harshly at him. Everything narrowed as her mouth opened, scathing words shooting down his spine. It was as if he’d been slapped, his cheek stinging and stinging. _

<<<>>>

Alexander’s fingers harshly hit his keyboard, the very tips turning a stark white from the pressure. His chewed on nails had beads of red underneath them, and his knuckles were a soft pink from him chewing on the skin. 

Alexander paused, hitting the space key. His cheek glowed from the glow of the screen, and his purple eyes scanned what he’d written. Only a few spelling mistakes. 

Good. Alexander was hell-bent on perfection. He quickly fixed the errors, the red lines underneath disappearing. It was black words on a white page, row after row after row after row. 

Monotone. Alexander hated monotone. It was so.. Safe, reliable.

Alexander turned away from the computer, his hands trembling as he clicked the off button of the computer. Alexander sat up fully, fumbling for a nearby blanket. His knees curled up to his chest, and Alexander laid his head on his knees. 

His red eyelashes fluttered closed, the very edges brushing against the edge of his dark bags. His high cheekbones spoke of beauty, the pale skin almost gleaming in the darkness. The moonlight outside of his window cast a soft shadow.

A tree rustled outside, the rattling of the leaves causing Alexander’s heart rate to spike. He’d had trees in the Caribbean, one that had rested outside of his window. Alexander and his mother had had picnics underneath the trunk, and in the fall they’d played in the leaves. 

A memory flashed in Alexander’s mind. His mother had been grinning at him, one of her brown eyes overshadowed by her red hair. Alexander had been what- nine? Not ten, because the white paint on the wall was there. The paint had disappeared after his father had left. 

Gone gone gone gone-

Alexander’s breath rattled in his throat, his trembling hands reaching up and brushing a piece of his own hair away from his eyes. He tracked the dancing of black spots across the room, everything slowly drifting. 

His head was heavy and dropped onto his knees. His eyes were hot, dark blackness overwhelming Alexander. It tugged softly at his clothes. 

_ Water surrounded him, the scent thick. His eyes opened slowly, and Alexander looked around wildly. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Oh god, Alexander was going to die- _

He drifted off to sleep.

<<<>>>

“Did you complete the homework for bio?” John asked from beside him. Alexander looked up, nodding. 

Lafayette slung an arm around Alexander’s shoulders, laughing merrily. “Mon amie, you and I have a bunch of work to do. Our own little answer key!” Lafayette slid off of him, grinning so widely that his pearly white teeth showed. 

Alexander blinked, feeling slight disappointment hit him. But he quickly pushed the emotion away before anyone could notice, his shoulders straightening out. He gave a small smile to Lafayette, while Hercules just sighed. 

“Laf, you’re being really close with Alexander.” Hercules stated, raising an eyebrow. 

Lafayette blanched, waving his hands in front of him. “Non! Non, Hercules! Hamilton knows French, that's all.” 

“You know French?” John spoke up, his hazel eyes glancing over at Alexander. “I thought you were mute. Who taught you? Was it Lafayette?”

Alexander’s footsteps made soft  _ tap tapping _ on the pavement. He shook his head at Lafayette, not wanting to pull out his notebook. His shaking hands pulled themselves out of his pockets, “ _ My mother taught me. _ ”

John blinked. “I don’t think-”

“His mother taught him.” Hercules said, looking straight ahead with his brown eyes. His cheeks were slightly rosy. “And, uhm, I don’t think we should talk about it.”

“You know ASL?” Lafayette asked. 

“What’s ASL?” John but in, grinning over at them. His eyes seemed to pierce Alexander, shimmering with something that Alexander couldn’t quite place. 

“American Sign Language. And, yes, Lafayette. I know ASL.” Hercules murmured, before he blanched. “Wait- I’m forgetting something.”

“Homework?” Lafayette asked. “Your bandana?"

John blinked. "Did you forget work again, Herc?"

“Work! I gotta go, guys! Bye!” Hercules quickly rushed off, his shoes thumping loudly on the sidewalk. Everything seemed to spin for a second, and Alexander took a small sip of his water. The refreshing taste soaked into his parched mouth, and he let out an inaudible sigh. 

His hands shook and his head spun, but Alexander forced himself to continue towards his own house. Lafayette and John soon said goodbye, and it was just Alexander’s footsteps on the pavement. 

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Alexander stepped quietly.

_ Tippity. Tippity. Tap. _

He closed his eyes as the sun shone on his red hair, warming up the strands. His back ached. 

Alexander was exhausted. 

But he continued towards his destination. His feet walked towards a busy road, and later on, a small store. Alexander walked in, heading towards the makeup section. He’d never wanted anything about him to disappear before, but Alexander knew. 

He’d done his research. 

Alexander was ready. 

He picked up a makeup ( concealer or a specific type of eyebag makeup, ill lookfor it in just a sec.) [It is concealer, and an angled brush]strong enough to hide the bags underneath his eyes, reading the label and making sure it was waterproof. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Alexander was out of control. 

<<<>>>

His hand repeatedly hit the spacebar, zoning out. His eyes closed briefly, but Alexander quickly jerked himself awake. He felt like he was surrounded in water, his eyes opening and closing and stinging. The hurricane had come after his mother’s death.

_ Whoosh- _

The hiss of the ocean he once had loved surrounded him, the waves tugging at his clothes. Alexander reached up for air, but he let himself fall. He deserved it. The burden on his shoulders-

_ He needed to write. His voice was in the paper, Alexander knew it. He  _ knew _ it. _

_ Alexander held up his first paper to the candlelight, the very edge of the flame catching onto the paper. He dropped it as heat seared through his tired limbs.  _

_ Alexander Hamilton had written his very first page about hurricanes with fear pounding through his bones and agony in his head.  _

<<<>>>

Alexander blinked at John, who stared at him. There was a hint of curiosity in his face, his hazel eyes gleaming with something that Alexander couldn’t place. The classroom was quiet, barely any chatter going on. The clock ticked. 

Alexander looked back at his paper, feeling his face grow slightly red. As a mute, he'd never been so openly stared at before. He didn’t know what to do other than ignore it. His pencil made a soft grating sound on the paper as his teacher opened his mouth. 

Mr. Seabury had returned, handing out homework assignments over what they missed. He looked sicker than ever, but everyone knew that Mr. Seabury would continue doing what he did for years. 

Alexander closed his eyes, glad to hear the quiet of the classroom. He thrived on silence, especially when it usually wasn’t quiet. 

John continued staring at him. Alexander could feel the stare boring onto his shoulder, the spot cold. 

A single bead of sweat dripped down Alexander’s forehead, and he cast a swift glance at John. The taller man continued to stare.

And stare. 

Alexander felt nervousness run through his veins, his hand twitching. Why was he being stared at? Did John need something? Homework help?

<<<>>>

**John's Pov**

John grinned over at his friends. “Nothing. I found out absolutely nothing.”

Lafayette frowned. “Wait.. You  _ still _ think he’s not actually mute?”

“Maybe he prefers not to speak..?” John shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Straight out  _ ask _ him.” Lafayette said, raising an eyebrow. His accent slipped out, coating his words. “Oui. That would be good instead of repeatedly staring at him. He might get the wrong idea.”

“I can’t ask!” John whined. “I’ll die if I ask.”

“Mon amie, you will not  _ die. _ ” Lafayette said, looking around. His ponytail bounced as he did so. “Herc’s coming.”

“How-”

The door burst open, and Hercules ran through. “Wassup! I miss anything?” Alexander trailed behind him.

“This is why you’re failing English, Herc.” Lafayette said dryly. “And it’s why someone has to tutor you.”

“Speaking of tutors, have you found one yet?” John blinked over. A small sense of something appeared in him, a bud of curiosity. It was almost confusing, the way John seemed so attached to his friends. 

Alexander had only had a single group of friends before when he was in Nevis. He didn’t really like them much, and didn’t consider them his best friends, but they were some people to hang out with. Nobody else liked to hang out with a mute.

“No. Finding tutors willing to teach me is hard. I did punch a kid at the beginning of the year, remember?” Hercules dryly laughed. Alexander tilted his head, not really remembering the incident. After all, he’d only arrived a month after the beginning of school. 

“Oh, Alexander wasn’t there for that incident.” John spoke up, his freckles dancing in the sunlight. His hazel eyes gleamed with mischief and pride, his lips tilting up in a slight smirk. “So why doesn’t he tutor you?” 

Hercules coughed, his fist pounding against his chest. He grinned, his eyes curving closed in a smile. Alexander felt surprise rush through him, his violet eyes widening slightly. The bags underneath his eyes had been covered with makeup, and he looked healthy for once. 

“Will ya?” Hercules asked, his slightly off-white teeth gleaming in the soft sun. “Tutor me?” 

Alexander blinked, before he nodded slowly. He did have plenty of time and the good grades to do it at least. His trembling hands shot up before Alexander could stop himself, and signed something to the taller teenager. 

“ _ What time are you available for tutoring? _ ” Alexander tilted his head, a piece of hair falling in front of his vision. The brilliant orange-red of it startled him for a second, his entire body locking up before he realized that that was his hair. A silent sigh forced itself out of his mouth, and his shoulders drooped.

“Uhm… I get off of work around 7 for the next few days, but I have too-” Hercule’s face went blank. “Shit.”

“Let me guess, you forgot about your job? Again?” Lafayette dryly asked, watching as Hercules nodded. His feet pounded on the sidewalk as he ran away, hastily apologizing to a car as he dashed across the street. 

John laughed at the sight. Alexander looked over at him and Lafayette as they talked, eager and unlistening. 

It was almost like they couldn’t hear the rushing of water into gutters, or the crunch of rocks underneath a car’s tires as it pulled out of a driveway. It was almost like they couldn’t feel the pounding of Alexander’s heartbeat in his head, pulsating in a quiet beat. 

_ Ba-dump. Ba-dump. _

Alexander’s head spun for a second, the sun glaring at him from where it was positioned in the sky. His eyes closed, softly enjoying the sound of talking next to him. 

“Alexander, where’s your house at?” John’s voice spoke next to him, and Alexander looked upwards. He smiled and pointed in front of him, motioning that it was five blocks away. 

“That’s kinda far…” John muttered. His tannish skin was glistening with slight sweat, his hand curving around his backpack strap. “My house is only two blocks, while Lafayette’s is three blocks that way.” John waved to the right, also waving goodbye to the French man.

Alexander and John continued to walk in silence, his eyes briefly flitting closed. His red hair was amassed in a pile of curls, stray strands floating from his head. His purple eyes were bright in the sunlight, his jawline sharp. Alexander’s pale skin had gained a slight red tint, proof of a small sunburn. 

Alexander watched as John turned down a block, and he sighed. His heart had sped up from the heat, a bead of sweat dripping down his skin. He was slightly dizzy. 

A small smile spread across his face as Alexander’s footsteps echoed into his ears. He paid no attention to them.

For once, he was excited to see what tomorrow would bring.

<<<>>>

“Hey Alexander.” John said to him from the desk across from his. Alexander nodded towards him, making a small wave with his hand. 

“How was your morning?” John asked, leaning his head onto one of his pale hands. Alexander smiled slightly, taking out his notebook and writing something on the paper. 

_ It went well. How was yours? _ Alexander wrote, handing the notebook to John. A small bead of something was inside of him, locked into his chest and speeding up his heart. He couldn’t help but grin over at John.

“It was alright.” John said, his eyes lowering. Alexander couldn’t help but notice the way his hands shook slightly, the notebook’s paper rustling on his desk. Alexander sighed inaudibly, tucking the notebook away. He wouldn’t need it.

“Yo!” Hercules bounded over towards them, his eyes sparkling. “Guys, I got promoted!”

“Even though you’re late all the time?” John raised a light brown eyebrow. His freckles slightly danced on his face, and Alexander looked away, towards Hercules. 

He was happy for his  _ friend _ .

“Yeah.” Herc chuckled. “And I’m working behind the counter now!” His palms slammed onto the desk, making Alexander flinch slightly. He vaguely noticed John doing the same.

“Sorry, Alex, John.” Herc smiled sheepishly. “I got overexcited.” 

“I hadn’t noticed.” John drawled out, a small southern accent tinging his words. Alexander noticed the sarcasm, but Herc appeared to look away from it.

Alexander lifted his hands up and signed something to Hercules. The teenager appeared to think for a minute. 

“I work at McMadison’s. At least it’s not King’s Burger.” Herc sighed. “I heard that place is terrible. The lettuce is always wilted.”

John grinned. “Yeah! I went there a few weeks ago and I specifically asked for no tomatoes. They gave me tomatoes!”

“Specifically?” Herc scratched at the top of his head. “Breaking out the big words, now are we?” 

The bell rang, causing students to scatter back towards their seats. The teacher, Mr. Seabury, grinned at them. “Alright, class.” He rasped. “Let’s teach you about-”

Alexander pulled out his notebook and began taking notes, his pencil scribbling furiously at the paper. Grey lines swam before him, the slightest sound of paper ripping as he turned the page. Alexander felt calm; at peace when he wrote. 

He briefly closed his eyes, letting the sound of the silence in the classroom soothe his shaking hands. 

<<<>>>

Alexander sank into his soft bed, the mattress cradling his weary muscles. He’d walked to and from his house quite a few times, but he was exhausted. His thin frame shook, his eyes closing. Sure, he’d slept in his bed quite a few times, but the ice-cold feeling of the blankets jolted him awake slightly.

His mind swam with exhaustion.

Alexander didn’t feel like writing today. 

<<<>>>

His days started to revolve around seeing John. He didn’t know what this feeling was, the blatant happiness that always crowded his heart and filled up his lungs. Alexander always felt so excited and happy whenever he walked by, whenever John merely smiled at him. 

He started to write less and less, spending more time with John and his friends. Herc and him had conservations where Alexander would shoot out rapid-fire questions about Language Arts and Math, and Herc would answer them. Lafayette and Alexander just got along. 

It was comforting, the way the days started to blend together. Alexander found that he was smiling more, his eyes getting brighter. His bags started to disappear, his frame getting a little fuller. He walked to his classrooms without shaking hands, his shoulders not hunched. 

Alexander blinked over at John, softly smiling at him. John grinned back. “What’s number three’s answer?” John asked. 

Alexander inaudibly sighed and pulled out his notebook, quickly scribbling down something. His handwriting was neat and legible, but John still squinted jokingly at the paper. His hazel eyes gleamed with teasing, his freckles dancing as he lifted his head.

“I can’t read this. English, por favor?” John said. 

Alexander rolled his eyes, grabbing his notebook. He clearly wrote it down again, all of it in Spanish. The seemingly gibberish stared back up at John, who just sighed out loud.

John blankly looked at him. “Wow, thanks.” His slightly southern voice was hinted with sarcasm, but Alexander just grinned. A warm feeling spread in his heart, squeezing his lungs tightly. 

There was no doubt about anything. Alexander Hamilton was truly in love with John Laurens.

<<<>>>

“So, the end of the school year is coming up.” John murmured to him, clutching his history book close to his chest. One of his dark brown curls was flying about, being blown by the wind. His hazel eyes were closer to a slight brown-green.

Alexander nodded, looking over at Hercules and Lafayette. Herc sighed, shoving his hands into his red hoodie pockets. 

“Yeah. And I have no idea what senior year is going to look like…” Herc muttered crossly. “And most of you are already 17… Lucky.” He huffed.

“Can’t believe you were once smart enough to skip third grade.” Lafayette joked, nudging Herc’s side. The teenager flushed and squawked awkwardly, holding his hands up in a sign of peace.

“I give! I give!” Herc said, and John chuckled, starting a conservation with his friends. Alexander glanced over at John with purple eyes, the sound of a bird tweeting hitting his ears. 

Alexander’s head jolted up at the sound, his breath hitching. There was a robin on a tree across the street, the orange sticking out through the green leaves. 

_ Auburn hair stuck out from underneath a wide-brimmed hat as she leaned up to wave. Her cheeks were thin, but Alex didn’t think about it much. Her skin was pale, shadows dancing across her face from the leaves. A robin chirped in the background, and she attempted to imitate it. She waved over at Alex, who ran towards her.  _

_ Alex signed with one hand that he’d found something, then showed his other hand to her. In his pale palm, there was a speckled bird’s egg.  _

_ His mother smiled at him. “Where’d you find it?” _

_ "I-" _

“You alright, Alexander?” John asked him, sending the memory evaporating like mist. Alexander smiled up at him, wanting to hide his shaking hands. 

Everything inside of him longed for those days again. Before the hurricane, before his mother died. The rose-coloured days filled with childlike happiness. 

But Alexander didn’t want it back at the same time. He didn’t know why. He’d gotten too far, way too far, to turn back now. 

<<<>>>

His hands paused on the keyboard, the sound stilling in the room. His widened eyes stared blankly at the box where he was supposed to put in his password. The small black line blinked at him. 

Alexander blinked back, his mind going blank. His hands shook slightly, a small thin line of his hair falling in front of his vision. It was red. 

Why couldn’t he write?

His fingertips brushed against the keyboard, and he jerked his hands away like he’d been burned. Alexander couldn’t write. His mind was blank, and so were his ideas. 

But Alexander Hamilton was a writer. It was what he’d been born to do. He’d written his way out of a dead-end town- he absentmindedly apologized to his mother- and into a high school and maybe, eventually, into a college. 

His hands shook even more. It was like the swirling winds of a hurricane had been encased inside of him, his entire body trembling. 

He hated this. He  _ hated _ not being able to speak. He hated how people avoided him in the hallways, as if being mute was a plague. He hated how people were just so idiotic that they couldn’t see that maybe Alexander was a good person at heart. 

Most of all, he hated not being able to write. He was fine with not being able to speak as long as he could write. Other than sign language, which he hated to use, writing was his only form of communication. It was the only way-

He roughly pushed his chair back, a screech echoing in his ears and around the room. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Heat was building in his eyes, the swirling wind in his brain, and oh god he wanted to scream but he couldn’t. 

He wanted to talk, but he  _ couldn’t. _

This wasn’t a fairytale. He couldn’t just spin around and dance with a prince. He couldn’t just magically find a fairy godmother to fix his problem. Hell, he could go to Medusa and she wouldn’t fix it. 

Alexander was mute. He didn’t know any other way of life. 

He thought he’d accepted it awhile ago. He’d thought that he was able to resign himself to a life without talking, without colour. A life swirling around his sound with the and the taste of monotone. 

A life that had been ruined by sight. A life that had been ruined by hearing his friends talk, and just listening to them silently. Always silent. 

Alexander didn’t even care how it happened. He wanted them gone. Then everything could be monotone again. 

But Alexander wasn’t  _ okay _ with that. He wanted something more, yet he didn’t know what he wanted. 

God, he was a mess. 

<<<>>>

John looked over at him, his hazel eyes gleaming. “I can’t believe it’s only three weeks until summer time! Are you excited, Alexander?”

Alexander grinned and nodded, tucking an annoying lock of red hair behind his ear. His pale skin shone in the fluorescent light. All around them, students packed up their things and chatted quietly. Alexander slid his notebook in his bag, and stood up, like the rest of the students were doing. 

“Want to exchange phone numbers?” John asked, pulling out his phone. Alexander nodded, and pulled out his own phone. Honestly, he barely used it. It was just there to call his- Washington, or even 911. He didn’t have any games on it, nothing. 

Well, other than Sweets Crunch. But he got so frustrated with it he hasn’t even touched the app in over three months. 

Alexander tapped in John’s number, then handed John his phone. He could feel something squirming inside of him, and Alexander felt so happy. 

He could feel his cheeks go a pink-hue as John glanced at him, his sharp eyes gleaming with something. Freckles danced across John’s cheek, scattered almost like salt on a black table. 

Alexander couldn’t describe the feeling that swelled in him then, and he looked away. His eyes focused on the ground, while his heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He couldn’t really recall the last time he hadn’t felt like this. It was like walking on a tightrope, and one false step meant that he was literally going to faint. 

Alexander still wasn’t used to this emotion. It had been more than a couple of weeks with this mind-boggling sense that erupted inside of him whenever John merely looked at him. 

His phone was handed back to him, along with a warm smile. Alexander grinned back, his eyes slightly closing. Alexander pocketed his phone and headed out of the classroom as the bell rang. As usual, John and Hercules walked alongside him. Lafayette waved at the trio as they went their separate ways to class.

<<<>>>

He stared at his phone, which was open to the messaging screen. The contact was, of course, John. The blue bubble read, Hi. 

Alexander grabbed his phone, and with shaking hands, typed hi back. He couldn’t help but smiled slightly. 

His hands untied the ponytail from his hair, and Alexander felt the strands brush his collarbone. His pale skin was lit up with the light from the screen as John responded. 

_ What lunch period do you have? _ John asked. It was a seemingly meaningless question, but Alexander recognized the tone. Meek. Fearful of.. Of something. Alexander couldn’t recall, but it was from the time his father hadn’t been a father anymore. 

_ The second one. 4b, I think. _ Alexander typed back, wondering why John’s text message reeked of desperation. 

_ I have the first one. 4a. _ John’s reply was quick. 

Alexander tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.  _ I know your first class, but what’s your second class? _

_ Advanced Algebra. _ John’s reply was even faster this time. 

Alexander suddenly understood. His mind flashed back to a time of desperation- when the small house he’d lived in stank of alcohol and fear. He’d written with adrenaline back then, or merely left. 

John was typing with fear racing through him. 

<<<>>>

Alexander opened his eyes, feeling exhausted. He uncurled from beside his bed, stretching up and hearing his back pop. He groggily rubbed at his eyes, standing up quietly. He took a glance at his clock. 

A single, tiny glance that informed him he was almost an hour late for school. 

Alexander rushed to tug on some halfway decent clothes, pulling on a dark purple hoodie that was laying on the ground. He slipped on socks and tugged on his tennis shoes, half-heartedly pulling his hair into a ponytail. He rushed down the stairs, grabbing his backpack and waving goodbye too… Nobody. 

Alexander rushed down the street, panicking. He had to hurry and turn in his homework for L.A. and quickly get to his social studies class. 

The streets were fairly empty around nine. There weren’t any panicking students anywhere, nothing. 

Alexander felt his lungs rattle as he sucked in a breath of air, his bag thumping against his back. His weak legs were trembling as Alexander sprinted across streets, almost running right into a very pregnant lady. 

But he didn’t, which was good. 

By the time he reached his school, he vaguely heard the first period bell ring, signalling the end of class. 

Alexander wilted. For one of the first times, he was late to school. Of course, he’d missed school for doctor appointments and such, but this was the first time he’d skip-  _ missed _ school without a valid reason. 

Alexander opened the doors to his school, walking into the office and taking out his notebook. He scribbled down a few things, and the office lady nodded to him and handed him a small pink slip. 

Alexander walked down the busy hallways, catching a glimpse of John as he turned into his classroom. 

God, he was such a mess. But Alexander was okay with being one- for now, at least. 

<<<>>>

His eyes closed as Alexander listened to his feet thump quietly against the sidewalk. Hercules, who’d joined them, finally had a day off of his job, so they were all heading to Herc’s house. Alexander had been there before to tutor Hercules after winter break, but somewhere around Valentine's Day.

Summer was only a week away, including two months and three weeks off before they each started their senior year. 

Alexander was excited. He didn’t think he’d ever be excited for school, but this happened. John Laurens, Marquis de Lafayette, and Hercules Mulligan were Alexander Hamilton’s best friends. 

Although his eyes were closed, he could see the excitement on John’s face as they chatted excitedly about what they would do over the summer. He could hear Lafayette’s rapid-fire replies. 

He was lucky to have people willing to talk to the mute. 

But he didn’t understand quite how lucky he was. 

<<<>>>

This went on for a few weeks. Alexander, John, and Lafayette would meet up at the park or something, and would walk around town for a while, just chatting. Alexander found it best to start a new conversation, although his hands didn’t shake anymore. He was ‘talking’ more and more with sign language. 

John’s chuckle resounded in his ear. Alexander felt his cheeks go a soft, barely visible pink. He couldn’t help liking John. He’d been one of the first to willingly talk to Alexander. He’d been the first one of his friend group that Alexander had liked- as a friend, of course.

Lafayette cast a glance at him, and Alexander smiled back, his hands shooting up to sign something. 

“God, Alexander!” John laughed, his head tilting back. His freckles danced on his joyous face, and Alexander’s eyes darted away. “You have the randomest questions.” John grinned down at him- the height difference was now apparent and very frustrating. 

Lafayette grinned. “At the end of the year, by grade for my math class was, in fact, a B.” 

Alexander blinked. “ _ That wasn’t what I asked. _ ” His mouth formed a small frown. 

John’s phone binged, and he took a glance at it. His face went pale, his eyes slightly wide. “Sorry guys, I have ta go home!” He waved goodbye and sprinted down the street. 

Lafayette looked over at him, sharp chocolate-coloured eyes piercing into Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander sent him a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re going to have to tell me what's going on with you, Alexander.” Lafayette said. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Alexander’s cheeks turned slightly red. He knew what Lafayette was implying. He also knew that-

“Do you like someone?” Lafayette asked. 

Alexander sighed, his shoulders drooping. “ _ Yeah. I do like someone. _ ” He signed, his hands shaking slightly. 

Alexander Hamilton wasn’t stupid. 

It appears Lafayette wasn’t either. 

“Who? ‘Cause, from what it looks like, you either like me, Herc, or JohN-” Lafayette was stopped by an embarrassed glare from Alexander. He could feel his ears slowly turning as red as his hair. 

“OH! It’s-” Lafayette stopped himself and grinned, before falling short. “He’s as dense as a brick, though.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow, silently asking the taller male to elaborate. Lafayette sighed, slowly repeating himself. “He’s as dense as a brick. Y’know, John? He won’t realize you like him until you slap him in the face with it.”

Alexander felt his hopes that maybe, just maybe, John would notice his crush. But this meant that Alexander would have to tell him. 

He imagined how that would go for a second. 

_ “John, I think I like you…” Alexander signed at John, who turned and blinked at him. “Huh? What did you ask?” _

Or another scenario…

_ “Y- you like me?!” John’s eyes opened wide, his cheekbones highlighted. His face was half-hidden in shadow as he turned his head to the side. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I- I’m afraid I don’t like you back. And we can’t be friends anymore. It would be too awkward.” _

Alexander felt his face turn red, and he sighed quietly. He turned his violet eyes towards Lafayette, who was watching the internal exchange with a look of amusement on his face.  Alexander signed something quietly. 

Lafayette sighed. “I don’t know how he’ll respond, Alexander. He’s closer with Hercules than with me.”

He turned away from Alexander, looking out towards the street. A car flashed past them, the brilliant sunlight making Alexander’s eyes water softly. 

He needed to take a risk for once in his life. Alexander was a major non-risk taker. He relished in the safety and comfort of his bedroom and things like that. He really didn’t want to do this. 

But there was no other way. Alexander wasn’t content in just letting John slowly drift by when he was available to catch. 

There was one way.  An idea slowly wormed its way into Alexander’s mind. “ _ What’s John’s locker number?” _ Alexander signed to Lafayette. Lafayette gave him a sharp grin. 

“08-27-12” Lafayette responded quickly. “It’s on the same side your locker is at, number 1754. What’s your locker number again?”

“1704.” Alexander replied. His mind was coming up with rapid-fire scenarios.

“That’s not bad. What are you planning to do?” Lafayette asked, raising a thin brown eyebrow. Alexander merely grinned at him, his eyes closing. 

“ _ I should probably head back home as well. See you, Lafayette. _ ” Alexander signed, turning back towards the direction of his house. 

Behind him, Lafayette smiled.

<<<>>>

Alexander stared at his phone, willing it to go off. It had been a month into the summer- about two months until school came back…

Alexander’s mind was filled with thoughts. The school let you keep the locker you had from previous years into senior year, that way the students were used to where their locker was. The combinations didn’t change either. 

So he had a definite plan to put into action. 

xTimeskip Two Monthsx

<<<>>>

Alexander Hamilton was nervous. His stomach was filled with butterflies, his heart pounding in his chest. John walked alongside him, Hercules at the other side. Lafayette would meet them later- as he had a longer walk than them. 

Alexander saw the doors of the school in sight, John quietly bickering with Herc. There were students milling about the entrance, almost as if everyone was afraid to go in. 

“Wow.” John breathed. “I can’t believe we’re actually seniors now.” 

Herc grinned. “Mhm. Look. You can easily spot the freshmen!” He laughed quietly, guestering over to small teenagers with slightly round faces. Alexander felt a fresh wave of anxiety and fear. 

Then he took a deep breath and walked onto the campus. Nobody stopped. Nobody stared. It was just Alexander, John, and Hercules making a major change with themselves. 

It was relieving. 

<<<>>>

It continued like that for a week. Classes were filled with rules, expectations, and beginning activities. Alexander had a single class with Lafayette, two with John, and zero with Hercules. In one of his other classes, he’d met Angelica Schuyler, a girl whose mind was almost as sharp.

He had lunch with John, Hercules, and Lafayette. He also vaguely noticed Angelica in the lunchroom, along with a girl dressed in blue.

Alexander tapped a response to John’s text message as he opened a locker that wasn’t his. He slid in a small note in a light blue envelope, and closed the locker. 

His heart was in his throat, a small flush on his cheeks. His violet eyes were cast towards the ground. Despite his outward appearance, Alexander was a mess on the inside. He felt like jumping off the nearest canyon- which was in Arizona- or just running away from everything. He already regretted his action of putting a note in John’s locker, yet he didn’t regret it at the same time. 

Alexander flinched slightly as the bell rang for him to esca- leave school. Alexander stopped by his own locker, before slinging his bag over his shoulder. The weight of it reminded Alexander to charge his school-given laptop, which he’d forgotten to do the previous night. 

His thoughts drifted towards the light blue envelope. He’d made sure to handwrite the note, although he made sure to alter his handwriting slightly. It was a subtle difference that didn’t scream, “Alexander Hamilton wrote this”.

It was good. He was good. 

Alexander let out a small breath of air as he exited the school building. John immediately called out to him, excitement plastered across his face. His hazel eyes were gleaming with excitement, his brown hair tangled into a ponytail. 

“Alexander! You were almost late!” John grinned at him, his eyes closing along with the smile. His white teeth were showing, and Alexander felt a soft blush dance across his cheeks. 

“ _ Sorry. Got caught up in something. _ ” Alexander signed, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. He glanced around, noticing that Lafayette and Hercules were already waiting for them. Alexander motioned for them to walk towards the other members of the group. 

The chatter of students faded into the background as Alexander listened to his friends talk. He couldn’t stop thinking about the note, the light blue envelope which contained some of his feelings for John. 

His heart pounded in his chest, filling up his mind. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, his eyes tracing the cracks in the sidewalk. 

“This is my stop! Au revoir, John, Alexander.” Lafayette waved goodbye at the two, turning down his corner with a flair to his step. Alexander was sure he saw a flash of something evil in Lafayette’s eyes. 

Alexander looked up at John, meeting his hazel eyes. Alexander quickly glanced back down. 

He was an awkward mess. 

Alexander fidgeted with his fingers, wondering how he could start a conservation. 

“How’s your classes?” John asked quietly, although his voice was loud in the silence between them. 

Alexander smiled up at him. “ _ Good. How are yours?” _

The corner of John’s lips tilted up, his hazel eyes closing softly. “They’re good. We already have homework in my Algebra class though… In L.A. we have an assignment to read… I forgot. We’re in the same class for L.A, right?” John rambled slightly. 

Alexander nodded. “ _ We have to read  _ Lord of the Flies _. But for now, we’re only really preparing to read it. A few activities, as Lee said. _ ” He signed quietly. 

“Oh! Yeah, I forgot!” John rubbed the back of his neck in a careless manner, an easy-going grin on his face. “Oh heck, this is my street! Gotta go, Alexander!”

Alexander sighed softly. No matter what, he was still awkward at the end of the day. 

He thought about the sky blue envelope and blushed softly.

<<<>>>

“Guys! You’ll never guess what I found in my locker!” John waved an envelope around the lunch table. Lafayette sent a fleeting glance towards Alexander, who managed to look curious instead of ecstatic. His eyes went slightly wide as John opened the letter with care. 

John started to read it out loud. “My dearest Laurens, I truly hope it was you who received this letter. You know that I am an admirer of yours, as you have stolen into my affections without my consent. However, it is not without purpose that I write to you. Every word that you have spoken to me- very few, compared to others- remains embedded in my mind.” 

John’s cheeks go slightly red as his eyes dart over the rest of Alexander’s letter. He’d begun jokingly at first, but once he reached the third line his voice was timid. Almost meek and unbelieving. 

“Who do you guys think it is?” John asked. Alexander shrugged as Lafayette’s eyes, once again, practically screamed amusement. 

<<<>>>

Alexander slid another sky-blue envelope into John’s locker. 

The following day, John showed up with a piece of blue in his hand. He read the first paragraph of the letter aloud, and asked who it was once again. On the walk home, John breached the subject once or twice, each time his cheeks going red and his hazel eyes gleaming with something Alexander couldn’t place. 

And each time John asked, Alexander would shrug. 

<<<>>>

Every envelope Alexander placed into John’s locker was another lunch discussion. Alexander slid an envelope into John’s locker every few days. 

Soon enough, the sky-blue envelope had printed on the front of it, “John Laurens”. 

It was as if Alexander could barely contain his joy. All he needed to do was slowly win John’s heart with his words, as John already knew his personality. Alexander was no charmer, not in this life at least, but he knew his way around words. He’d wanted to embrace them for so long, speak them. But he couldn’t. 

His mind soon revolved around seeing John every day, a faint scatter of blushes soon all Alexander could recall about late-night conservations. In daylight, everything was different. Alexander committed to memory the sound of John’s baritone voice. He memorized the way John’s hazel eyes would sparkle when he talked about his pets- he had two turtles and a small dog- and the way John’s hair always seemed to be rebelling against gravity. It was something he complained about often, at least. 

Alexander couldn’t help the glances he shot at John Laurens. 

He couldn’t help but longing for a voice now more than ever, so he could say four words. 

_ I’m your secret admirer. _

And then, maybe, just maybe, everything could be okay again.

<<<>>>

Two months had passed by. 160 letters had been delivered. For the first month, the envelopes had been blue, but then Alexander had run out. Then he’d bought grey ones, because Alexander liked the colour grey.

However, today, Alexander didn’t want to get out of bed. It was a Saturday morning and he had work later- he’d gotten a job cooking at King’s Burger- and he didn’t want to move. 

He didn’t really want to do anything.

But Alexander forced himself out of bed, taking a small glance at his long-unused computer, then went to take a shower. 

He’d had a nightmare again. It had been about his mother, and it had felt so vivid that, at first, he’d thought it was real. But when the grass was stained a dark red, the air smelling of burnt rubber and a metallic scent that made Alexander want to throw up, he’d pinched himself and found that yes, it was a dream. 

So Alexander turned the water hot enough to burn. Patches of his skin turned almost rose-coloured, except darker and angrier. Steam had fogged the bathroom mirror, his clothes discarded on the floor. 

His phone binged. Alexander vaguely heard it from where he’d left it on the counter, and took a slight glance in the direction his phone was in. 

He didn’t want to risk getting water on it. 

Alexander sighed, and ignored it, even as a call went through Alexander’s phone. 

The voicemail turned on, a feature Alexander still wasn’t used to. A voice came through, leaking desperation and choked with sobs. 

“You’ve got to hurry, Alexander.” John’s teary voice said. “Lafayette and Herc are in the hospital. I- I don’t know how it happened. Oh, god, please pick up. I hope you’re not asleep.”

Alexander was already getting dressed, pulling his hair into a messy ponytail. He snatched his phone, absentmindedly calling John. He tapped a few times on the wall, letting John know that he, in fact, was there. 

“Alexander! Thank god, you’ve picked up!” John’s voice filtered through his phone. Alexander swiftly tugged on a hoodie. 

“I don’t know if you got my voicemail or not, but Lafayette and Hercules are in the hospital. I’ll be over at your place it a few seconds. I already see the house. God, Alexander- I- I don’t know what to do…” 

John’s voice was quiet. Desperate. 

It tugged at something inside of Alexander. 

He rushed outside, seeing John’s car already pulling to the curb. He opened the passenger side door, seeing John’s face streaked with tears. His cheeks were red, his eyes were puffy. 

Alexander thought he looked like a mess.

“I- I’m sorry.” John’s voice cut through the suffocating silence in the car. “I know this is sudden, but the- uhm, the police officer called. She asked if I knew Laf and Herc, then told me they were in St. Cecilia’s Hospital. She said they were in a car accident, and, uhm, Hercules is in critical condition. Lafayette had a broken leg or a few ribs, something like that. The, uhm, the other driver didn’t- didn’t make it out.” 

Alexander took it in. He felt as if he was underwater, but he was still breathing. 

His fingers brushed against John’s arm as more tears came out of the teenager’s beautiful eyes. 

Alexander didn’t give much comfort. He could barely believe it himself. He didn’t believe that Hercules, the toughest of their group, was in critical condition. He refused to think that Lafayette, the scariest person that Alexander had ever met, was suffering in a hospital bed alone. Alone. 

Alexander was always alone. 

He found himself rubbing at his eyes as they pulled into the hospital's parking lot. The logo, St. Cecilia’s Hospital, stood out in cheerful letters as if this isn't a place where people died everyday. As if his two best friends weren’t suffering inside. 

Alexander walked into the waiting room, and saw three teary children and what looked like the mother. A doctor was in front of them. 

“He didn’t make it out.” The doctor’s words were sullen, with a sad undertone. 

“You don’t understand! I’m asking for Peter! Peter, my husband, who was in that idiotic car accident!” The mother yelled. 

Alexander looked over at John, who was beside him. They walked up to the secretary, who looked at them and drawled something out that Alexander couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“I’m looking for the room of Marquis de Lafayette and Hercules Mulligan.” John said. 

“Room 175 and 125.” The secretary said. “May I have your names, address, and phone numbers please?”

John shot out both of their names like rapid-fire. Alexander turned to look toward the mother of the three children. 

“Miss, you don’t understand. Your husband was in a head-on collision, and he didn’t make it out.” The doctor tried to explain. 

The mother looked straight into Alexander’s purple eyes. 

“You! You two are going to visit the other people in the crash, right?” 

Alexander slowly nodded. 

“Tell them I hope they’re going to Hell for what they’ve done to Peter.” 

Alexander’s sleeve was pulled harshly, his thin wrist grabbed as he was tugged out of the lobby. He heard a strange shriek emitting from behind them, along with sobs that sounded like screams. 

Alexander looked back to John, who was still holding onto Alexander’s wrist. There was something about this that was sparked with misery. Alexander understood. 

Although John had never really been a hug-out-all-your-feelings type of guy, he still needed something. Anything to help him through this. 

Alexander walked faster, letting the soft electricity spark up and down his arm. Nerves raced after him, encircling his thoughts. 

Lafayette and Hercules were in a car accident. The other didn’t make it out. It was a head-on collision. Hercules was in critical condition. Lafayette had broken bones. The other person didn’t make it out. 

There was a certain tang of death and despair to this place.

Alexander’s mind flashed to auburn hair and soft, kind violet eyes. 

He pushed the memory away, feeling John’s hand fall away from his wrist. 

Room 175. 

Alexander exhaled quietly, and pushed open the door. 

Lafayette’s arm was in a cast. His right arm- the one he used for writing. His eyes were closed, his faint stubble nonexistent. There was a long scratch- like the one you would receive from a cat- on his face. There were bandages around his shoulder and across his chest. 

John sat on a chair next to Lafayette. “Hey, Laf. It’s John and Alexander.” 

Lafayette’s eyes cracked open. The chocolate-coloured eyes were filled with a soft kind of pain. 

“Is Herc alright?” Lafayette asked in a rasping voice. There was a bruise over one eye, along with a few smaller cuts next to the visible injury. 

“I don’t know. I heard about it from an officer, then I went and got Alexander. Yo- You’re the first we’ve seen today.” John said, wiping at his eyes and smiling faintly. “What happened, Laf? I know you got into a car accident, but what happened?”

“There was someone swerving on the road, going over the speed limit. Herc- he was driving, and uhm- he tried to pull over. But the driver crashed into us.” Lafayette said, drinking a cup of water that was left on his nightstand. 

Alexander lifted his hands up. “ _ The other driver didn’t make it out. Herc is in critical condition. We’re not sure if we’re able to see him yet.” _

Lafayette looked at him with wide eyes. “You mean I’m the only one who’s gonna be able to walk out of the hospital by the end of the week?”

Alexander winced, and John’s hazel eyes pierced into him. “ _ Yeah. _ ” Alexander signed with a hand, the other one trembling in his pocket. 

He couldn’t help but think of the time he was hospitalized when he was a sophomore- going to a different high school, with a different foster family. He remembered the overwhelming stench of blood, the glare the mother of the child he’d hit. 

Alexander shook the memory off as John got up. “We’ll be back soon, Laf. We’re gonna go see Herc.”

Lafayette waved goodbye. John tugged Alexander out of the room, walking down the hallway. 

“What was that, Alexander?” John cast a look at him. 

Alexander shrugged. He barely knew what was happening himself. In hindsight, though, maybe shrugging was a terrible way to communicate. 

“You could’ve told him more tactfully! God, I thought you were smart, Alexander!” John spun around to face him. John was taller than he was, his shadow burying Alexander. 

Alexander looked away. “ _ Sorry. _ ” He didn’t elaborate. He felt the blow to his pride as John ran a hand through his tangled hair. 

“No, I’m- I’m sorry, Alex. It’s just that this is stressful, sorry.” John apologized to him, his head tilted up. His eyebrow was twitching in annoyance, and his freckles stood out on his cheeks. His ear tips were slightly pink, proof that John was only slightly embarrassed. 

Alexander jumped when he realized John was looking at him, a hint of something dancing through his eyes. “Let’s go, Alex.”

With a jolt, Alexander hurried to keep up as John left, heading towards Room 125. He then realized that John had called him  _ Alex. _

Not Alexander. 

It was what his mother used to call him. The nickname had a soft affection to it. 

He could feel his ears get slightly red, almost as red as his hair. But Alexander paid no attention to it, giving the smallest smile towards John. 

White walls upon white floors. Room number after room number. Closed door after closed door after closed door. 

He could hear the tap-  _ tapping _ of his shoes echoing in the quiet hallway as they came upon another waiting area. There was only a single person there, sitting in a chair. 

John ran up to the secretary, asking where Room 125 was. The secretary gave him a blank stare, pointing down the hallway. “Name, address, number for both of you. The person in that room is stable, but the doctors aren’t sure whether or not he’ll make it a few weeks. Be careful. Don’t touch him.” 

John jotted down both of their information, before giving a nod to the secretary. 

<<<>>>

Hercules looked pale with bandages wrapped over his head and part of his arm. His leg was in a cast, lifted above the bed slightly. Hercules, the largest of their group, looked small in the hospital bed. 

Hercules’s eyes didn’t open when John called out softly to him. 

Alexander grabbed a small clipboard in front of the bed. He scanned over the diagnosis, his violet eyes widening. 

_ Patient Name: Hercules Mulligan.  _

_Patient Age: 17_ _Patient Sex: Male_

 _Initial Diagnosis: Broken femur._ _Treatment Plan: N/A_

_ Diagnostic: _

_ Broken femur- oblique fracture.  _

_ Glasgow _ **_Coma_ ** _ Score of 9 _

Alexander couldn’t focus. 

Coma? Hercules was in a coma?

He vaguely heard a loud clatter as the clipboard slipped from his fingers. He could feel his mind whirling, but he was underwater again. 

John looked over at him, picking up the clipboard. “Alexander? You alright? You look a bit pale…”

Alexander could feel his hands openly shaking as he turned towards John, a look of disbelief plastered on his face. John tilted his head. “Was it because of something on this?”

John’s hazel eyes danced down the paper. His face, once he was done reading the parts that Alexander couldn’t bring himself to read, was stark white. 

“Oh.”

Such a small, quiet sound. Yet the emotion in it spoke so much. Alexander couldn’t-

Hercules was in a coma. One he may never get out of. Why was he-? Alexander didn’t  _ understand _ .

The door clicked open, and a person in a white coat came in. He had sharp brown eyes, which gleamed at the sight of the two. 

“You must be his visitors. I’m Dr. James Reynolds. Pleased to meet..?” He smiled. 

“This is Alexander Hamilton,” John motioned towards Alexander, “And I’m John Laurens. We have a few questions about Herc’s condition.”

“Please, shoot away.” Dr. Reynolds grabbed the clipboard from John’s hands, humming a soft tune to himself. 

“What’s a Glasgow Coma Score?” John asked, raising an eyebrow at the older man. 

“Oh! That! It’s a scale to test how awake the patient is, their level of injury, y’know, that sort of thing. Your friend here scored a nine! Uhm, how do I explain this in simple terms..?” Dr. Reynolds rocked back on the balls of his feet, tilting his head slightly upward. A brief smirk flashed across his face. 

“Y’see, He opens his eyes in response to pain, but not to speech, which is unfortunate. He did say something earlier, but we weren’t quite able to make it out. And finally, he can sense pain and move his limbs to withdraw from the source.” Dr. Reynolds held up a finger as he stated the conditions. 

“Your friend, Herc- as you said, of course. Uh, he has a broken femur in an oblique fracture- the break is diagonal. We believe the cause of this is from the fact that the front end of the car folded, so, uhm, the dashboard hit his legs. We were lucky the bone itself didn’t shatter.” Dr. Reynolds said in a semi-cheerful tone. 

John stared at the man in front of him, his tear-streaked face still a soft pink. Alexander basked in the new information. “ _ Does this mean Herc will wake up? _ ” Alexander signed to John. 

John translated the question to the eagle-eyed doctor. 

James Reynolds shrugged. “Yes, but no. It’ll take awhile for… Herc to wake up. But- please, don’t bother him or anything. He can contract infections easily.” 

John nodded. Alexander stared at the lifeless form of Hercules, and the beeping of the heart monitor echoed in his ears. 

“We’d better be taking our leave now.” John said, grabbing onto Alexander’s wrist. He could barely register the touch as they left. 

Alexander glanced behind them. 

James Reynolds was staring at them, dark brown eyes gleaming. There was a smirk slowly spreading across his face, his white coat standing out. Gloves were on his hands. 

Chills raced up Alexander’s spine. 

“See you later, boys.” Dr. Reynolds bid them goodbye as the door closed, his eyes flashing like he’d found prey. 

A few nurses walked past them. The hallway was suddenly teeming with life, nurses calling out codes to one another. There were a few people in white coats running past. 

Alexander stared at the back of John’s head. John turned back to look at him, hazel eyes shining over. 

Hercules was in a coma. Lafayette had broken bones. The _ other driver was dead, dead, dead like his mother and his cousin and- _

Alexander followed the insistent tug on his arm, and struggled to keep up with John. 

<<<>>>

That night, Alexander stared at his phone. The light from the screen was hurting his eyes, and the night was quiet. There were no crickets chirping. Nothing. 

Alexander checked the time.  _ 11:47 pm. _

He checked when John last sent him a message. 

_ 10:56 _

Alexander sat up, staring at his long-unused computer. He imagined the feel of the keys underneath his hands, his mind coming up with ideas. 

He stood, pulling the chair to his desk back. Alexander sat in the chair, turning on his computer. 

[ _ Password _ ]

Alexander lifted his hands to the keys of his computer, watching his fingers type out his password. He hadn’t written in so long, he’d almost forgotten the smooth feel of his keys. He’d almost forgotten the sound of keys breaking the silence of the night, keeping him alert. 

_ Tap tap tap. _

He clicked the last document he made, his amethyst-coloured eyes scanning over the last line.

_ Something is distracting me from everything. Is it John? If so, I don’t like him. I like this life I’m living. I don’t need friends. _

Alexander smiled softly, pressing enter and adding something to the very last document.

_ Correction: John Laurens is good for me. I love him. _

_ <<<>>> _

He smiled at Lafayette, his eyes closing. Alexander watched as John talked excitedly with Lafayette, his hands waving about. Alexander was content to listen. 

As he always was. 

Alexander handed Lafayette a few sheets of paper- his homework for the day. “ _ Here you go. The teachers liked you, so they actually included directions this time. _ ”

For the past few days, the teachers have been winging it. Especially Mr. Lee, the Language Arts teacher. 

“Thanks, mon ami. Any news about Herc?” Lafayette asked. 

Alexander raised an eyebrow at John, who nodded. 

“He’s more stable and reacts a bit more. Uhm- he hasn’t woken up once yet, though.” John mumbled, his freckles dancing as his head moved. 

Lafayette nodded moving to sit up slightly. “Tis’ good that he’s reacting more. I do hope he wakes up before Thanksgiving Break. Isn’t that in a few weeks?” 

John nodded. 

Alexander blinked. Had time really been passing by that quickly? That quietly? 

In fact, he’d lost track of the days. It had been at least two since Laf and Herc’s accident. Maybe three, or four?

Alexander didn’t count. He didn’t want to count. Everything had practically been skewered by the accident. His sleep was suffering again, and concealer now adorned his face. His violet eyes stood out more, his red hair tangled into a ponytail. Since that night, he hadn’t touched his computer. 

Alexander didn’t know how to deal with stress. Sometimes he could barely breathe from the weight of it, other times it felt like he was the only one in a mile’s radius. It was like walking underwater and finding out you’re the only living thing in the ocean. 

He blinked over at Lafayette, who was gleefully grinning over at John, responding rapidly to something he said. 

Then his phone pinged. Alexander checked the notification, seeing it was from Washington. Alexander glanced up at Lafayette, who had glanced over at the sound. He signed a quick goodbye and left. 

His feet carried him towards his car- which he asked permission to drive. He had to, as it was really Washington’s car, not his. He checked the text again, seeing the ‘get home’ text from his father figure. 

Well, not really a father figure. 

Alexander opened the door only to see John running towards him. “Wait, Alexander!” John panted as he caught up with the shorter male. 

Alexander raised a thin eyebrow, turning around. “ _ Yeah? _ ” He signed. 

“S-sorry.” John panted softly. “I- you’re my ride home, that’s all.” 

Alexander allowed himself to smile softly, before motioning for John to get in. 

<<<>>>

  
Once Alexander had gotten back home, Washington was waiting in front of the doorway. His blue eyes were gleaming, tanned skin almost glowing. He was bald, a little fuzz growing on top of his head. Alexander knew that Washington was at least 40, maybe even more than that. 

“You were almost late for dinner.” Washington said warmly. “We decided to wait for you.”

Alexander smiled at him, happy he hadn’t missed dinner, although he wasn’t eating much again. “ _ Thanks. _ ” He signed, before heading up to his room to take off his hoodie. 

Once he was back, they headed to the dining room. They lived in a fairly moderate house- two floors, no basements. However, they did have a two-car garage. Alexander didn’t know what that meant for wealth because Washington usually parked in the street anyway. 

“Thanks for finally joining us, Alexander.” Martha said, her dark brown hair pulled neatly into a bun. Her shirt was plainly white, although she wore a blue necklace and matching earrings. Washington himself wore what he usually wore. 

Alexander sat down almost politely, starting to eat the macaroni and cheese. It wasn’t his favorite meal, but his small helping filled his stomach. 

A heavy cloud reigned in on his mind. 

Alexander Hamilton, for once in his seventeen years of living, was mentally and physically exhausted. 

Once he finished the dinner, his feet were loud on the steps as he walked towards his room. He couldn’t help but sway, almost as if drunk. Through all the spinning his vision was doing, Alexander managed to make it across his room and landed on his bed. 

His breath was muffled by the slightly-used pillows, and he tiredly pulled a blanket over himself. 

It had been a long, very loud day. 

<<<>>>

Alexander couldn’t  _ focus _ . It was too loud in the classroom, the ticks of the clock annoyingly echoing in his ears. Whispers behind him jolted him from the scratching of pencils around him, and Alexander bent over the small sheet of paper again. 

A paper turned. 

Alexander counted five seconds- to the ticking of the clock’s second hand- in his mind before flipping his own paper over. There were 14 more questions on that side, and Alexander quickly filled them in. He’d already learned the subject last year, when he’d read ahead so much that the junior teacher refused to give him the last semester’s book. 

Of course, his brain made him wait ten seconds after someone got up, turning in their own quiz. 

Then, as Alexander stood up to turn in his quiz, a person in a magenta shirt stood up after him. 

Alexander walked towards the front of the room, the paper in his hands shaking. He quietly turned in his test, moving out of the way of the person behind him. Another person stood up, a pencil dropping to the ground. 

The clock was ticking louder now, the quiet of the room filled with sudden whispers and laughs and-

Alexander shook his head slightly, walking back to his desk. His eyes noted the empty chair- John’s seat- a few rows in front of his. He sat down, his heart fluttering in his chest.

He couldn’t do this. He really couldn’t. 

But he continued to listen anyway, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. There were black spots dancing in his eyes, then, suddenly-

“You alright, Hamilton?” A southern voice softly drawled. A dark brown eyebrow was arched uncaringly at him, stubble already growing on the teenager’s face. He almost looked like Lafayette, despite the blue-grey eyes the tall man seemed to have. 

Alexander nodded, although his vision seemed to swerve at the soft movement. The black dots were swarming in his vision, everything inside of him screaming to stay awake. 

He raised his hand, the teacher nodding to him. Alexander quickly packed up his things, heading outside of the classroom. His fingers roughly scraped against the brick wall as he headed in the direction of the nurse’s office. 

His mind was fogged over, his eyes half-lidded. Despite him attempting to sleep the night before- maybe the night before, Alexander wasn’t really sure- he couldn’t get even a second of sleep. 

He swayed again, and Alexander leaned against the wall. His bag was heavy on his back, the weight pushing him down. His thin bones could barely take the strain of eating well for a few months and then barely eating anything. 

Alexander felt tears rise up underneath his suddenly closed eyes. He was tired of this. Tired of silence, exhausted of noise. 

His body slumped forward, his knees crashing into the ground. Pain shot up his body, but Alexander was too far gone to care. 

The faint buzzing of the black spots took over his vision as his head met the floor. 

And not too far away, Thomas Jefferson watched with a small smile on his face, before going to get the nurse. 

After all, he would get in trouble if he just left Hamilton there.

<<<>>>

“Alexander, where were you in L.A. yesterday?” A girl with brilliant blue eyes asked Alexander. He merely shrugged, not wishing to explain his small breakdown due to barely any sleep. It was only a mental breakdown. 

Maybe. 

But Alexander was okay. 

He  _ would be okay. _

<<<>>>

Alexander stared sullenly at Hercules’s still-asleep body. The large man had been showing slow, very slow, signs of waking up. The doctor- specifically Dr. Reynolds, had said that Herc’s movements were slowly increasing, although he hadn’t been able to move his legs much. 

Alexander’s eyes fluttered closed as John walked up behind him, the footsteps echoing in the silent room. The silence between the two teenagers was broken up by rhythmic beeps from the heart monitor.

_ Beep. Beep.  _

Another moment of silence. 

“Dr. Reynolds said that Herc will wake up soon.” John murmured, their fingers brushing together. With Lafayette still in the hospital and Hercules stuck in a coma, they’d grown closer together. 

John’s hazel eyes sparkled as they looked at each other. “Alexander, what’s on your mind?”

Alexander didn’t answer, shifting his eyes to the heart monitor and the IV attached to Hercules’s arm. A clear fluid sparked in front of his eyes, his mouth tasting of salt. 

_ Alexander stared at a massive ocean, the sunlight sparkling on it so roughly it hurt his eyes. His mind was filled with smiles as though his older brother, James, was still there. He’d died when Alexander was but a child, young enough not to remember most of it. But he did remember something.  _

_ A stone skipped over water, Alexander’s thin arm aching as he threw skipping stones one after another. _

He blinked at the memory, then blinked again to clear the tears from his eyes. “ _ Nothing. _ ” Alexander signed with shaking hands. 

John opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the door swiftly opening and closing. “Ah! You two are here!” Dr. Reynolds said with a cheerful smile, although his eyes glinted with something dangerous. 

Alexander didn’t trust it. Maybe his self-preservation skills were finally kicking in, but Alexander didn’t trust this man one bit. 

Especially not the small half-smirk Dr. Reynolds gave as he turned around. 

A slightly cold finger brushed against his, and John gave him another look. Alexander nodded slowly, and silently sighed.  He turned and left the room, leaving John alone with Dr. James Reynolds. 

<<<>>>

Alexander slid another light grey envelope into the metal locker, turning around and coming face-to-face with a not-so familiar face. He tilted his head, taking in the taller man’s appearance. 

A magenta coat was the first thing Alexander noticed. A cocky smile was sent his way, before Alexander’s arm was harshly tapped, a signal to get out of their way. Alexander glared, before taking a step to the side, his violet eyes glancing up. 

“Watch it, immigrant.” The man said, and Alexander blinked. He didn’t even know who the guy was. He had black curls spreading downwards- almost, and some locks were falling in his face. He had intelligent chocolate-brown eyes, and Alexander scoffed silently. 

Alexander continued on his way, unaware that Thomas peeked over his shoulder, a small smirk on his face.

<<<>>>

**John's Pov**

John stared, raising an eyebrow at the doctor in front of him. “You want me to help  _ both _ Laf and Herc through some physical therapy once they’re discharged?” It was a conversation change from the one he’d been having not even three minutes ago. 

Dr. Reynolds nodded, his blue eyes piercing through John’s carefully built walls. He didn’t know what was with this man, he really didn’t. Something about the doctor screamed ‘untrustworthy’, but John had never been one to follow his instinct. 

“Yep! It’s likely that Hercules won’t be able to walk normally for quite some time, and I need you to help with that! We’ve attempted to get into contact with his parents, but apparently they want nothing to do with Hercules.” Dr. Reynolds said, a small smile remaining on his face. 

John winced. He remembered that incident- the one where Hercules’s parents had kicked him out last year. He didn’t know the reason, as Hercules never really admitted it.

So John sighed. 

“Fine. I’ll do it.” He was talking about both things Dr. Reynolds had asked him to do. 

“Good! You won’t regret it, promise.” Dr. Reynold’s lips curved into a smirk. His tan skin gleamed unflatteringly in the brilliant lighting. 

And the games started. 

And John Laurens hoped Alexander wouldn’t catch on. Something worth more than John’s life was at stake. 

He felt a small chill of horror rake down his spine. 

Thank god he was a good actor.

<<<>>>

Alexander stared at the text John sent him, a feeling bubbling up inside of him. It reminded him of Nevis, the days when the sun had been warm but not too warm. 

Alexander typed down something that only vaguely made sense- attempting to confuse the slightly younger teenager. John sent back a response quickly, and Alexander smiled at the message.

The darkness around Alexander eventually faded, the sun attempting to rise much faster than Alexander was prepared for. He glanced at the time and blinked. 

He’d started talking to John around 11 pm. It was now almost 6 in the morning. Alexander couldn’t believe they’d stayed up talking to one another, internally scolding himself. He had a busy day today- a test in both Math and L.A. and he had to help Lafayette home. The best part was that he could see himself slipping another letter into John’s locker. 

So Alexander smiled, sent a quick message to John, and quietly got up. He pulled on a shirt and his hoodie over it, feeling slightly glad today wasn’t supposed to be a warm day. 

He grinned to himself as he thought about flashing hazel eyes and freckles. He could practically hear John’s voice in his ear, telling him good morning when he woke. Or wishing him good night as they fell asleep.

Alexander shook his head, feeling his face slightly heat up at the unintended life-commitment. And this was  _ if _ John liked him, and actually wanted to date him. And  _ if _ they stuck together through college, and maybe, just maybe, proposed-

Alexander shook his head to clear himself from his thoughts, his heart racing wildly in his chest. He couldn’t help but take a quick glance at his phone, hoping for another message from John. 

The screen was blank. Disappointment hung in his heart, swallowing up his chest. He tried to push it away, as John couldn’t message him  _ all _ the time.

Alexander tugged on his shoes, pulling his hair into a rough ponytail. He knew there were dark bags- ones that stood out because of his fair skin. Alexander risked a quick glance in the mirror. 

His violet eyes were darker than usual, and he was right about the bags underneath his eyes. His ginger hair was pulled into a small ponytail, strands brushing the nape of his neck. A purple hoodie covered Alexander’s thin frame although the hoodie itself was thin and not very baggy. 

Alexander winced, and quietly pulled himself away from the bathroom. A twinge of nervousness escaped him as he grabbed the letter to John. 

He smiled at the thought that maybe, someday hopefully soon, he could confess to John Laurens. 

The only problem..? Alexander Hamilton wanted to do it out loud. He remembered what the words tasted like, the shape of the vowels.

<<<>>>

“Hey Alexander!” John waved to him, a bright smile on his face. His hazel eyes were more blue today, reminding Alexander of murky water. 

Alexander pushed the thought away, and timidly waved back. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, quietly signing something to John. 

“ _ Hello. When are we visiting Lafayette today? _ ” Alexander asked, tilting his head. As he did so, he noticed a vaguely familiar magenta coat heading across campus. It was the guy that had bumped into him… And was in his L.A. class last year. And the person in his History class that sat near him, and seemed afraid of Angelica- who was in the same class.

Who was it?

Alexander tried to recall, but to no avail. He forgot this person completely. 

“Around 4:30, maybe? I want some time to do my homework and give Lafayette’s cousins a chance to visit…” John trailed off, tapping a finger to his chin in minor thought. Alexander nodded. 

“ _ I’ll come by to pick you up. _ ” Alexander signed, his lips curving up in a small smile. He couldn’t really help the way he utterly adored the taller male. But he could help his reactions around John, his feelings and emotions.

But, God, was he helpless in any way possible. 

John took a small glance at him as they headed towards their first class for the day, each going their separate ways before the bell rang. 

Alexander thought of the grey envelope in his bag, and softly smiled to himself, keeping his eyes trained on the dirty floors. He walked into his classroom, sitting down at his chair. He didn’t mind the way the students got slightly quieter once he walked in. 

Everybody knew that Lafayette and Hercules got into a car accident. Almost everyday John faced apologies, pity that he didn’t deserve. Alexander narrowed his eyes in thought. 

“Alexander.” A voice spoke in front of him. It was soft, barely a whisper. 

James Madison glanced at him, his eyes sparking with quiet intelligence. “You finished next week’s homework, right?” His voice was softer than most, and Alexander almost had to strain to hear it. 

Alexander nodded. “ _ Yeah. You? _ ” He signed, knowing James had taken a class once. They’d known each other last year- a few classes together here and there. They’d talked more this year than they had last, however. 

“Mhm.” James made a noise of agreement. “And next week is the test- remember?”

“ _ I’d forgotten about that. _ ” Alexander signed sheepishly, a jolt of realization hitting him. He couldn’t help the smallest of smiles that bloomed on his lips, his eyes closing. 

James reminded him of someone he used to know, who Alexander had once thought of as his best friend. Their demeanors were the same, along with the soft-spoken sounds. But they were different at the same time. James was intelligent, and Ari Oliver hadn’t been. 

“Class is about to start. Talk to you after lunch.” James whispered. A few seconds later, the bell rang. Alexander slid his notebook onto his desk, a pencil in his hand. 

The teacher quickly started the class. 

<<<>>>

_ My dearest, John Laurens: _

_ You are certainly aware that you’ve been on my mind recently. I am a person fit for the background, yet you find it in your heart to pay attention to me. I do hope that you’ve gotten some clues on who I appear to be, as this is 161 letters I have delivered to your locker in secret.  _

_ Even if you decide you hate me, please, reconsider. If my words are not enough honesty for you, although I do believe they are, I am more than willing to let my actions make up for it. _

_ Yours, _

_ A.Ham _

John peered up at him, and Alexander felt his heart race in his chest. He couldn’t get over how- how  _ adorable _ John looked when he was confused. 

His freckles were even more apparent with his blush, the very tips of his ears going red as John glanced away. Still, there was a reflection of dread inside the other’s hazel eyes, and Alexander couldn’t help but wonder…

“You’re the one… You’re the one that wrote these?!” John exclaimed, his eyes darting towards the ground as the taller male grew even more flustered. 

Alexander nodded, feeling a shimmer of pride flash through him. For once, his hands weren’t shaking. His lips were curved into a hesitant smile, and Alexander felt like his entire world was going to explode. 

“You- I… Uhm,” John took a deep breath, his dark eyelashes fluttering closed. “You- you like  _ me _ .” 

Alexander nodded, feeling like that was all he could do. God, this wasawkwardandhelovedit-

“I- You’ve been- I don’t  _ understand, _ Alexander.” John groaned, running his hands through his loose hair. Alexander had to admit that he’d taken awhile- almost six months- to confess, but it shouldn’t have been a problem. 

“You like me.” John stated bluntly, before he grinned brightly. “Like-like, right?”

Alexander sighed, raising an eyebrow at John’s childish theatrics. “ _ Yes. _ ” 

It was all he had time to sign before John’s grin grew contagious. He couldn’t help the earnesty that practically leaked from him, because from the way this was going, they could actually-

John appeared deep in thought as he redid his hair, the small smile still plastered across his face. Alexander thought it seemed  _ off _ somehow, but he didn’t notice what it was. 

Alexander quietly sighed. “ _ You don’t have to answer me right away. Just know that I like you, and maybe someday answer. It could maybe, just maybe, be enough. _ ” 

John grinned at him and nodded, the rose-coloured blush fading from his cheeks. “I’ll give you an answer tomorrow..?” His tone was questioning, although Alexander hadn’t really asked a question.

Alexander nodded, feeling as if he was giddly on top of the world, yet he wasn’t. John would give him an answer tomorrow. 

There was nothing bothering him. 

But god, what if John said no? What if he didn’t like Alexander, that he was in love with someone else-

Alexander still kept on the easy-going smile although he was lost. Nothing in his sharp purple eyes gave it away, only the fidgeting with his sleeve.

Why did John have to be so fucking  _ adorable _ ? Seriously, the taller male was  _ irresistible _ . 

<<<>>>

The next morning, John stared at him, fiddling with a small lock of hair that had fallen from his ponytail. The early morning sun gleamed on his freckled face, a light blush dancing on either cheek. His eyes, although slightly unreadable, were filled with nervousness and a quiet happiness. 

“I- I accept, Alexander.” John said, turning to face him fully. His face was the happiest Alexander had ever seen, and he beamed back at John. 

“I love you.” John said, his hand going to hold onto Alexander’s thin wrists. He felt something warm slide up his spine, cradling every thought and feeling he’d ever had for the teenager in front of him. 

God, Alexander was hopeless.

<<<>>>

Lafayette watched them with a giddy stare. “You’re finally dating?! Mon ami, I was so sick of watching the tension between you two!” Lafayette laughed, pulling both John and Alexander in for a hug. The taller male rather towered over them at almost six feet tall, while Alexander was an entire head shorter. John merely came up to Lafayette’s eyes. 

He huffed.  _ Fuck tall people. I hate them all. _

<<<>>>

They hung around Hercules’s bed watching the male clench his fist roughly. Although he did come out of the coma, they said that the man would never really regain the fullest use of his limbs- leaving Hercules unable to do any rough sports. 

Hercules smiled at them, his laugh filling up the entire room while Lafayette and John fussed over him. Alexander hung back, watching with a content smile. He was okay to just hang back, although these people had never really included him. 

They were friends first. It was only fair. 

Or so Alexander told himself.

<<<>>>

Alexander glared half-heartedly at John, feeling his cheeks flush. He glanced away, tilting his chin up the slightest bit as if to say,  _ “No. I refuse. You’re beneath me. Again, I love you, but peasant. _ ”

John didn’t know whether to laugh, smile, or cry. He chose all three.

<<<>>>

“Alexander…” John looked over at him with a smile, his hazel eyes gleaming. Alexander swallowed thickly, glancing up at John almost shyly. He’d almost-  _ almost _ forgotten what they’d been talking about.

“Don’t worry, Alex. I’ll be your voice.” John gave him a soft grin. Alexander felt happiness explode inside of him. Nobody had ever said something like that to him before. But- wait, he didn’t-

Alexander pushed the thought away, his violet eyes filling with tears of happiness. His heart skipped a beat, the pulse resounding in his ears. A flush spread over John’s cheeks, and he averted his eyes.

Alexander Hamilton was helplessly in love with John Laurens. And he couldn’t repeat it enough.

<<<>>>

Alexander looked on with a fond smile. It was Thanksgiving Break, a day before Thanksgiving, 

and he was invited over to John’s house. His specific instructions were to, as John put it, ‘act mute, don’t even think anything remotely disrespectful, and don’t mention anything about us being… gay’. 

Alexander had wanted to ask why, but John had waved over his shoulder and put on a cheerful smile. 

So now he was figuring out what to wear. John’s father, while not the best father in New York, wasn’t that strict, but his beliefs were imposed on his children. Alexander had gone over a grand total of once and it was solemnly quiet in the large house.

So he looked at clothes in the mirror, quickly texting John. 

**A.Ham:** _ What should I wear to the dinner? _

**TurtleMyrtle:** _ I dunno what do u have _

**A.Ham** : _ Literally nothing. _

**TurtleMyrtle:** _ Should I sent Laf over _

**TurtleMyrtle:** _ Wait no nvrmind i know how he would react _

**A.Ham:** _I have nice jeans..? Maybe a plain shirt lying around here?_

**Video Chat with TurtleMyrtle**

**Accept?** **Decline?**

Alexander fumbled with his phone panically, before pressing the accept button. His annoying ringtone faded out as John’s face appeared on the screen. 

“Hey, show me your closet.” John immedietly demanded. Alexander raised an eyebrow.

“No- not like that! God, Alexander. What outfits were you planning on wearing?” John huffed, although his hazel eyes were shining with amusement.

Alexander smiled at him and motioned to outfits splayed out across his bed. On it was a simple dark grey hoodie- as Alexander liked grey, mind you- and some regular jeans. Next to it was a long-sleeved green button-up shirt, along with black jeans. 

“Okay. The second outfit we might be able to work with. The one with the green… Thing.” John stared, unimpressed. 

Alexander tilted a red eyebrow up, giving a slightly diffident look. His eyes were slightly narrowed, before he casted his glance back towards the outfit John had chosen. It’s not that he didn’t look good in green, its that he was nervous, because what if it was too formal?

“Okay, as for your hair…” John trailed off. Alexander watched as his face scrunched in thought, freckles seemingly all over the place. His hazel eyes closed and John gave a defeated sigh. 

“Wear it as a ponytail- one you usually wear. But I’ll come over to help.” John mumbled. “I’ll be over at your house tomorrow at 3- and be showered before then. If you’re not…”

Alexander looked away stubbornly as he signed something to John. “ _ You’re not my mother, John. I’m pretty sure- _ ”

“Alex, I know, I’m just nervous. Sorry…” John trailed off, running a hand though his hair. “God,  _ you _ , meeting  _ my _ family? Not even a week after we’re together? Of course, I’ve liked you for awhile now- don’t look all smug, Alex- but  _ still _ .”

Alexander smiled slightly at the use of his nickname. It was becoming increasingly common- so common, in fact, that even Lafayette had started to pick up on it. He’d teased them relentlessly on it yesterday, when the two had dropped by Lafayette’s house.

“So, please,  _ please, _ for the love of God, let me at least do your hair tomorrow. It won’t be anything fancy- I just want you to make an impression…” John trailed off again, glancing to the side. Alexander started to pack the outfit that he was wearing away, slipping on the dark grey hoodie. 

“ _ Fine. _ ” Alexander signed, collapsing back on his twin-sized bed. He covered himself in a blanket almost immediately. 

“Alex, it’s literally almost 40 degrees outside and even then I’m sure you don’t need that much blankets.” John laughed, the conversation taking a lighter turn.

“ _ It’s cold. _ ” Alex-  _ Alexander _ \- protested, already feeling the chill resound in his room. 

“You just wore a hoodie over another  _ hoodie _ and proceeded to curl in one of the biggest blankets I’ve ever seen.” John was beaming as he said this sentence, his voice almost fakely dubious.

Alexander huffed as he held the phone up, staring blankly at John. It was easy to tell the man could read him pretty easily, so the two had also taken to sharing small looks. It was familiar to Alexander, and so far, familiar things had always worked out for Alexander. 

“You’re adorable.” John said teasingly. 

Alexander felt his heart skip a beat, a smile curling on his lips. His mind- no, his heart, was leaping at the praise his boyfriend gave him. They’d never really called the other cute, adorable, etc.

He could feel his face grow red. 

John’s laugh resounded in his ears, and Alexander swore he’s never heard such a beautiful laugh directed at  _ him _ . The mute. Alexander Hamilton. 

<<<>>>

Alexander pulled on the green button-up, his hands trembling minutely. There was a ball of nervousness, slight panic racing through him. God, he was meeting John’s father. And his siblings. And their friends. 

It was essentially a Thanksgiving party for family and friends. Not on actual Thanksgiving, only the day before, but close enough. 

He brushed his hair, huffing at the still-damp quality of it. He had dried it the best he could, and his effort was clear, or so he hoped-

There was a knock at the front door, and Alexander quickly walked out of his room, practically sliding down the stairs. Washington gave him a look that meant, ‘explain this later, son’.

Alexander couldn’t bring himself to reply, opening the front door politely. Lafayette stood there, wobbling on his crutches, with John staring at him with a mildly worried look. 

“Remember, Alex. I’m doing your hair.” John said, giving him a soft pointed stare as they invited themselves in. 

Alexander took one look at Lafayette’s condition and grinned at him, feeling a soft twinge of pity. He hated it when people pitied him, but he also could refrain from showing his pity. Lafayette was immobilized for now- with his crutches, of course- but he still would be going. The two had talked about it the night before. 

John raised an eyebrow at him. “Grab your brush and bobby pins. We’re gonna need them.” 

Alexander grinned, feeling the pit of nervousness open up. He was careful to not show his anxiety, because that would’ve been a mess, so he walked up stairs and grabbed the items John requested- along with a rubber band.

He handed the items to John, who immediately started in on his hair, tugging it into a ponytail. The strokes in his hair were slightly soothing, calming down Alexander’s nerves. It was as if your poured two gallons of water on the smallest campfire spark.

Lafayette smiled at them. “We shall see Hercules after this, no?”

John, who was currently pinning stray hairs to Alexander’s head, agreed with a wide smile. Alexander couldn’t help but nod, and John made an awkward squawking sound. 

“Alex! Don’t move your head!” John protested. Alexander couldn't really see what John was doing with his hair, but he bet that John was still grinning. 

And, a few minutes later, Alexander was instructed to look into a mirror. His hair was pinned into the usual, and the bobbypins in his hair were hardly visible. He didn’t look like a major mess anymore, as he’d applied makeup to hide his bags- as he still needed makeup to hide said bags. The green button-up he was wearing complimented his skin (and his attitude) perfectly. 

“ _ I like it. _ ” Alexander said with a faint smile. “ _ Let’s go visit Hercules now. _ ”

John grinned at him fleetingly, a flash of something dancing through his eyes. His own hair was tied into a ponytail- as was Lafayette’s- and his cheeks were slightly flushed. 

Lafayette stared at them, feeling strangely like a third wheel.

<<<>>>

**A.Ham:** Your father was glaring holes at me the entire time I swear.

**TurtleMyrtle:** yea he was lol

**A.Ham:** It’s literally not funny. He’s intimidating.

**TurtleMyrtle:** i wonder y

**A.Ham:** Sarcasm doesn’t work through text messages, John

**TurtleMyrtle:** it does if u can pick it up, alex

**A.Ham:** Your grammar and punctuation choices bother me very much.

**TurtleMyrtle:** i know :)

**A.Ham has left the chat**

<<<>>>

Alexander stared blankly at the wall in front of him. School started again tomorrow, and he wasn’t ready for it. 

It had been three days since Alexander had went to John’s house for a Thanksgiving party, and he’d regretted it. There was so many people, and Alexander only vaguely remembered minutely arguing with a few of them- not that they could know, of course. 

He ran his hand through his hair. God, he was bored out of his mind. 

His thoughts drifted towards John. 

Alexander couldn’t have loved- yes, loved- a better person. John was adorable, a smile usually on his face. Although there was something odd about him recently. It was as if John was guilty for something- because of something. Alexander couldn’t figure out what, and it was driving him insane. 

His eyes flitted closed, his thoughts coming to an abrupt halt. 

This had been happening for almost as long as Hercules was in the hospital- which had been a little under three- four weeks, but Alexander couldn’t recall the exact day. When had it been? 

His mind tossed him memories. 

Alexander pushed them away, searching for the one specific date. It was with James Reynolds, he knew that much. After all, calling the man suspicious was an understatement. 

So it had something to do with James. 

Speaking of which, why was the doctor so shady? And why couldn’t Alexander really remember the magenta- wearing man that he kept seeing? 

He didn’t know. Alexander couldn’t  _ remember _ . 

He opened his eyes to a brilliant light flooding the room. “Alexander?” Washington called towards him. “Lafayette’s here.”

Alexander jolted up, staring at his foster father with a look of surprise on his face. He tossed the blankets off of himself, quickly rushing downstairs. 

“ _ Lafayette? What are you doing here? _ ” Alexander signed, pulling his hair into a quick ponytail. It was slightly dark outside, the sun barely touching the horizon. He deemed it to be around 6-7 at night. 

“Mon ami, I was just feeling a little under the weather. May I stay with you for the night?” Lafayette smiled, although there was something sad to it, something that was attempting to be suppressed and smothered-

Alexander surprised himself by nodding. “ _ Of course you can stay. We have a guest bedroom you’re welcome to use.” _

Following getting Lafayette settled in, the man grinned at him brightly. “I know this is- how’d you say it? Oh- out of the blue! I know this question is out of the blue, but when’s your birthday?”

“ _ January 11th. _ ” Alexander signed back. “ _ Yours?” _

“September 6, mon ami. It passed a few months ago, I am now 18.” Lafayette said, sitting down on the guest bed. He patted the spot next to him with a brief smile, and Alexander sat next to his best friend.

“Bien sûr, I didn’t celebrate or uhm, notify? Yes, notify you guys because it was nearing the beginning of school. We already had a bit too much to worry about, especially with you and John, non?” Lafayette teased. 

“ _ You still should have said something. I would’ve gotten a present for you. _ ” Alexander signed, letting a guilty look creep onto his face. His violet eyes closed briefly, tucking a lock of his fire-coloured hair behind his ear.

“Non! Non, it’s okay!” Lafayette insisted. “Besides, we should be figuring out what to do for your birthday!” 

“ _ I’ve never really celebrated it before. _ ” Alexander admitted. 

“Now we have too! I’m thinking a few days before your actual birthday, we throw la party.” Lafayette said, his French accent thicker than before due to his excitement. 

Alexander smiled. “ _ That would work out. Sometime after New Year’s and a day or two after school starts again. _ ” 

Lafayette nodded, before starting to jabber about a bunch of different things. He said that with Hercules’s birthday, him and Lafayette had spent it together. However, he hadn’t an idea what John did for his birthday, as he wasn’t there. 

Alexander realized that, by the time they were done talking, it was past 10 in the evening. He yawned, before bidding Lafayette goodnight. 

<<<>>>

“Oh, Alexander...” John sang in a slightly off-pitch tune. Alexander grinned, a feeling bubbling up inside of his chest. He recognized the emotion, the feeling of wanting to laugh, but he held it down. 

“ _ Don’t forget to write. _ ” Alexander finished the lyrics up. It was from a song that they’d both composed almost jokingly over the summer, and hadn’t failed to forget about it yet. They had made more songs- one was even about drinking. 

John laughed at him, his eyes warm with laughter. His face glowed as he started to laugh, snorting as he clutched his stomach. Alexander felt a rush of affection. 

The man in front of him was beautiful. 

Alexander smiled softly, his vision warming up. He could tell, almost immediately, that this was indeed the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And they were only teenagers. Alexander could only imagine how the love for his John would flourish as they grew older. 

John stopped laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. The frosty air was evident in the way his breath was visible, hanging in the air like smoke. Alexander breathed a little on his hands, attempting to warm them up, as he’d forgotten to bring gloves with him. 

December 1, 2019. The air was already colder, but it had yet to snow.

John turned towards him with a teasing grin. “What, Alex? Are you cold?”

Alexander nodded, before raising an eyebrow at the obvious sarcasm in his voice. “ _ Are you teasing me? _ ”

John nodded. “Of course, of course. Only short people get cold so easily.”

“ _ I’ll have you know that you get colder easily because you are literally up in the clouds.” _ Alexander cast him an exasperated look. 

John returned it. “It’s not my fault I’m tall.” He huffed. 

“ _ Yes it is. _ ”

“But genetics are random!” John protested.

“ _ Still your fault. _ ” Alexander couldn’t help the smile curling his lips, knowing he was utterly right and his boyfriend was  _ wrong _ .

<<<>>>

Alexander stared at John, whose face was close to his. John’s freckles were surprisingly small from the angle Alexander was looking from,and his eyes were full with something Alexander couldn’t put a finger on. Their breaths intermingled in the frosty air, and Alexander thought his heart might explode. 

He felt a gloved finger tilt his chin up, warm lips hitting his own. 

He felt like his face was on fire as they broke apart, John’s finger still tilting his chin up. His eyes were slightly narrowed, a more handsome look to his face than before. 

“You’re helpless, Alex Hamilton.” John teased him, his hand falling from his chin. 

Alexander missed the touch, before settling with walking next to John. He felt awkward as hell, but still carefully interlocked their pinky fingers- a sort of promise between them. 

Maybe it was childish to dream that this, the person next to Alexander, was every bit the person he was meant to be with.

<<<>>>

December 5.

Alexander watched as John giggled with Lafayette and Hercules. John’s pale hands holding Alexander’s own as they later went out on a date of sorts. 

So here they were, next to the bay. Waves lapped against the shore, their gloved hands tightly interlocked. 

It was one of the best dates Alexander had been on.

<<<>>>

“Thomas Jefferson.” The magenta-wearing man introduced himself, something glinting in his brown eyes. “And you are..?”

“His name is Alexander Hamilton.” John stated for Alexander. 

“Thanks. I kinda forgot that he’s incapable of speech.” Thomas said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket. Alexander absentmindedly wondered how a teenager could be that tall. Thomas had to be at least six feet.

Which was about as tall as Lafayette was, now that he remembered.

<<<>>>

“Alex, what do you wanna do after school?” John asked as they walked down the crowded hallway. 

“ _ Maybe stop by King’s Burger? Lafayette is there now, and if we’re lucky, he’s working the register. Plus I’m in the mood for some of their fries.” _ Alexander quickly signed. 

John grinned at him. “Brought your own money, right?”

“ _ Who do you take me for? A neanderthal? _ ” Alexander stated, a scandalized look on his face. 

_ “On December 10th, 2019, Alexander Hamilton wrote in his journal about their date. He did this everyday he was with John Laurens. A few weeks later, December 28, Alexander Hamilton’s last entry about John Laurens was written. Let's hear what he has to say.” _

<<<>>>

“ _ Today is December 26, 2019.” _ Alexander signed towards Washington, who appeared increasingly disheveled. 

It was a day after Christmas. Alexander had gotten the world’s fluffiest sweater from John, and a small green coffee mug complete with an entire carton of coffee from Lafayete. He’d gotten a pack of pencils and a few notebooks as Alexander preferred physical things to write on more and more. From his foster family, he’d gotten quite a few things- a new laptop from Washington, and another hoodie from Martha. 

He was wearing John’s hoodie right now, as he stood in the living room of their house. Lafayette, Hercules, and John were here, laughing and talking and joking around. 

There was something off with John. He smelled faintly of perfume, only very faintly. Alexander shoved the thought away, leaning slightly into John’s side. Their pinky fingers slightly intertwined. 

Lafayette laughed loudly at something Washington had dryly stated. Hercules was chatting with John about something Alexander had already tuned out of. 

Instead, he was lost in his own thoughts. 

John had been acting off for about a week. He’d been coming to their scheduled hang-outs smelling faintly- always faintly- of perfume. Alexander had put this off on John having sisters, but it was a little much, even for Alexander. 

He grinned up at John, who’d taken to absentmindedly playing with Alexander’s hair. He couldn’t help the way his heart still accelerated at the casual touch. 

<<<>>>

_ December 28, 4:50 pm. _

Alexander scrawled down the time in his notebook, the pencil making a rough scratching noise on the paper. He’d been writing since roughly November 1st.

His phone binged. It was a text message from Hercules, some of the letters a little jumbled.

**H.Mule-:** dube, look at wht’s on facbeok

**H.Mule-:** i’m so sry 

Alexander grew curious, tapping on the Facebook app on his phone. He immediately saw a notification for one of his chat-things. Alexander didn’t know what it was called, and he didn’t really care.

His phone binged again.

**SaltyFrench:** Alexander, are you alright?

**SaltyFrench:** I understand if you wanna call me, s'il te plait va bien. 

What’s with his friends, and why are they acting so weirdly?

Alexander clicked on his chat- a random person- a Dr. James Reynolds. There was a link there. 

He clicked on it, a growing sense of horror blooming in his heart. Anxiety took over as he saw the picture. 

A lady in a red dress, her hair done up in a bun with her bangs covering her eye. Her tanned arms were locked around a man’s shoulders. Their lips were intertwined, his hands on her hips. 

John Laurens and Maria Reynolds. 

Alexander felt his world  _ stop _ . Every sound, the pulsating of his heart, the gentle rapping of fists on his door. It became to much, along with the squeaking of the hinges as the door to his room opened. 

His phone slipped out of his numb fingers.

_ Thud. _

It dinged weakly. 

Before Alexander knew it, his breaths were short. There was a man’s voice- Washington’s- booming overhead. He could feel his body swaying back and forth. 

His heartbeat resounded in his mind. 

_ Badump. Bathump. _

_ Badump. Bathump. _

His heart squeezed with something he could understand, an emotion he knew well. So well. 

Grief. Turmoil. 

He closed his eyes. 

John and the girl kissing flashed before his empty, blank eyes. 

His ringtone rang around the room.

“Son! Alexander, listen! God, Alexander, breathe. C’mon!” Washington urged him to not hyperventilate.

_ Badump. Ba-thump _ .

His phone dinged with even more notifications. 

Alexander couldn’t- he couldn’t

God what was John thinking

Why washedoingthistoAlexander

Itwasn’thisfault-

Alexander took in a gasping breath of air, just now realizing that he’d forgotten to breathe. There was tears burning in his eyes, the heat pulsating in his mind.

_ Ba-dump. Ba-thump _

_ Ba-thump. Ba-dump _

Alexander fumbled for his phone. 

“What happened, Alexander?” Washington’s voice was filled with concern. 

Alexander turned it on, the screen brightening to the picture of- of

“Holy-” Washington’s eyes were trained on the picture. “Alexander, God, I’m sorry.”

**H.Mule-:** Alexander ar You okay?

Alexander stared at the picture, a growing hole in his heart. His insides wanted something, longed for comfort and reality. 

His mind screamed at him for not seeing this sooner.

**Incoming Call for H.Mule-**

**Accept** **Decline**

Alexander pressed accept.

“Alexander! Are you okay? God, I saw the post. I was wondering-” Hercules heard the sniffle emitting from the phone’s receiver. 

Washington carefully said that Hercules and Lafayette should come over. Alexander stared at the phone blankly, turning his attention to the notebook discarded on his bed.

He picked up the pencil. 

_ Correction: I hate John.  _

December 28, three days after Christmas, Alexander Hamilton learned of the long affair between a Mr. John Laurens and a Ms. Maria Reynolds. The affair itself had been going on for two weeks.

<<<>>>

He stared blankly at Hercules, who was patting him on the shoulder. His hands shook as his phone binged again- a notification from Lafayette.

**SaltyFrench:** I’ll b there in 10

Alexander felt even more tears burn at his eyes. The thought of his friends sticking up for him when John had been their friend for longer was almost comforting.

“Alexander, are you alright?” Hercules said in a soft voice that seemed almost unlike his friend. 

Alexander nodded. 

“You’re not okay, Alexander. John just cheated on you- no matter how off that seems- and you say you’re  _ alright _ . Alexander, face the facts.” Hercules said, and it was almost like a slap to the face.

He’d been denying it. Hercules knew that. Everyone knew that.

His violet eyes darted up to Hercules, growing darker in the half-light. 

December 28, 5:30 pm. Lafayette showed up to see Alexander drinking more coffee than his body could handle.

Hercules was sitting next to Alexander, and Lafayette quickly sat down on the other side. 

“Mon ami, how are you feeling?” Lafayette asked, his warmth seeping slowly into the spot where their shoulders brushed. 

“ _ Like I got hit by a bus labeled ‘feelings and emotions’. Then after that, landed in a hospital where the doctors weren’t trained. Then once I was released, got hit by a car labeled ‘your gay boyfriend cheating on you with a girl’ _ .” Alexander harshly signed, his head thumping against the back of the couch. 

“ _ What the hell am I gonna do? _ ” Alexander stated, his loose auburn hair splayed out on the couch.

Lafayette and Hercules exchanged a quick look.

<<<>>>

_ January 3rd, 2020 _

Alexander stared blankly at the rain falling around him. It was odd for it to rain in January, especially when it was chilly. But the rain felt like ice slamming into his bare arms, and he knew he would catch a chill.

He glanced up, inhaling the smell of rain. He didn’t mind the rain- honestly, it was only the storms with thunder and lightning that got him. 

Rain splattered against the sidewalks, his lips curving into a soft smile. Although the person he was waiting for would damper his happiness, it was worth it to smile at the rain.

Footsteps splashed toward him, and Alexander spun around. His violet eyes pierced through the cloudy rain, his heart leaping into his throat. 

“Alexander.” John’s broken voice said. It showed that he, to, had regrets. 

Alexander didn’t respond. He glared at the man he’d once called his boyfriend, and while they hadn’t shared their past or deepest secrets, John had been the person closest to him.

“Listen- I’m… I’m sorry.” John spat out, although his hazel eyes flashed. Alexander could finally place the emotion. Guilt.

“ _ Why are you sorry? _ ” Alexander signed, the rain bouncing off of his skin. He regretted not putting on a coat, but he wore a dark green scarf wrapped around his neck. His hands had grey gloves shoved on them, and the bags underneath his eyes had only grown darker. A desperation of some kind edged beneath his skin.

“I-”

“ _ Don’t be sorry, John. _ ” Alexander waited for John’s face to show relief before continuing. “ _ After all, you merely cheated on me with a woman, no less. You literally snapped my heart in half, and all you have to say for it is-” _

“Alexander! Listen, I- I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Maria!” John yelled, his voice loud over the insistent noise in Alexander’s mind. 

“ _ You’re not sorry. _ ” Alexander took a step forward, ignoring the droplets of water rolling down his face. John’s red hoodie was also getting soaked, his poofy hair deflating.

“Fine! Maybe I’m not! Maybe I just never fucking loved you in the first place, Alexander.” John hissed. The sounds of the rain falling on the pavement below Alexander’s feet mixed in with his baritone voice.

“ _ What are you saying? _ ” Alexander raised an eyebrow, an open look of honest disbelief.

“Dr. Reynolds bet that I couldn’t break your heart.” 

“ _ You let a doctor dictate your emotions? _ ”

“Yes.” John hissed, a hint of lie in his voice. “After all, you are obviously a mere  _ mute _ pushover. It was easy to trick you. Everything I did with you was a lie.”

It was funny for the rain to be falling in January.

Alexander’s hands trembled even more.

“Besides, nobody loves you anyway. That’s why your mother died in the Caribbean, leaving oh-so-poor Alexander alone.” John said, laughing cruelly.

“ _ This isn’t like you, John _ .” Alexander wanted to yell at him, but he couldn’t. He was mute. John was right for once.

“It is. You’ve just failed to see it. Always caught up with yourself, always failing to notice that I’m not in love with you! God, Alexander, you’re such an idiot!” John yelled. “I hated you the moment you walked into the room! I hate you so fucking much it’s unreal!”

Alexander stared at his ex-boyfriend. 

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. 

He tried to pretend that the tears now flowing down his cheeks were rain. 

It was true. John was right again.

“For once in your life take a look at what you’ve caused! I pushed you away for a reason!” John shouted. Alexander flinched back, his hands trembling. He opened and closed his mouth.

“For one, I’ve never loved you. For two, I fell in love with Maria. I’m truly in love with her, Alexander.” His smile grew soft at the thought of her.

Alexander glared harshly at John, his hands shaking. His violet eyes closed briefly, a drop of rain splashing onto his nose. Even more tears collected at the corners of his eyes, heat pulsating behind them. For once in his seventeen years of living, Alexander was terrified and angry. Fear pounded through his bones and raced through his veins, his breaths coming in small gasps. 

“ _ True love doesn’t exist. _ ” Alexander shot at him, his heart dropping. It was as if he’d yelled it, his ‘words’ weighed heavily in the air, growing silence between them filled only by the sound of rain. He didn’t want to lose John, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Maybe in your world it doesn’t. In mine, however, it does.” John murmured, his voice barely audible over the storm. He swept a curly lock of his golden brown hair- now dripping wet- behind his ear.

It did exist. At one point in time, Alexander had truly thought he could always love John.

“I love her more. I always have.” John offered him the smallest of smiles, and Alexander felt hate spike through him. “I’m sorry that you’re getting hurt, Hamilton.”

Alexander took a shaking step forward, a sob ripping through his throat. It was audible, and for once, Alexander wished he wasn’t so  _ silent _ .

The rain died off. It was now sprinkling.

Puddles were already formed on the ground as John turned, his back to Alexander. He’d always seen people’s backs, always. He was so exhausted of never seeing them, always the person they left behind.

Alexander fell to his knees, water flying up and splashing against his cheeks. His violet eyes stared pleadingly at John’s form in the rain, as if expecting him to turn around. He choked on a sob. 

“Wait.” Alexander whispered, ignoring the burning racing up his throat. It was barely a whisper, and he couldn’t hear himself in the overwhelming sound of the rain. It filled his mind, his head. Spots of red red red red  _ red- _

Sounds rushed past his ears, voices calling his name. Alexander stared numbly at the watery blood beneath him, merely stretching out an arm as if he could call John back. He didn’t want to lose him.

Yet, in a way, he already had.

<<<>>>

_ Eleven years ago. _

“Alexander! Fetch the clothes on the clothesline!” His older cousin- Peter- ordered. The man was twenty with ginger hair, although he had brown eyes.

Alexander nodded. “Okay!” He raced on his short legs across the village, towards his mother’s house, where they’d hung the clothes. His mother was still alive- and would be for awhile.

He raced back through the village, mud covering his bare feet. A toothy grin was plastered on his face, his short hair brushing his shoulders. A laugh bubbled out of him as he skidded to a halt in front of Peter’s house.

“Peter! I’m back!” Alexander called into the house as he opened the door. The grin fell from his face as Peter did not answer.

“Peter?” He questioned once more, continuing to go through the house, dumping the dry clothes on the hopefully clean kitchen counter. He heard a loud bang, similar to the gun his father had- and had taught him how to use before he skipped town.

He walked towards the gunshot, a growing sense of utter horror streaming though his mind. 

His cousin, Peter, lay on the ground. Blood bloomed out from his head, his brown eyes wide. The floor was already stained with blood. 

Seven-year old Alexander Hamilton already knew what death was like. He’d seen it from rabbits and mice, to wasps and spiders on the ground, dead. 

He recognized death. He recognized the metallic scent of blood, the screaming of Peter’s name emerging from his throat. He screamed until he was hoarse. 

Then he screamed some more. 

He sounded like a dying animal, wailing out through sobs that racked his body. His shouting died into a whisper, his throat feeling like it tore itself into shreds.

That day eleven years ago, Alexander Hamilton became mute. 

<<<>>>

He stared numbly at his wall, his knees curled up to his chest. It- the numbness- didn’t feel quite like it was when he’d just joined the high school, but it was almost the same. Alexander didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel.

School. He had school today.

With that thought, Alexander checked the time. 7:21.

He could make it. School started around 8, so Alexander was fine. He slipped out of bed, wincing at how sore his muscles were after not moving for a while. When had he first woken up? Alexander didn’t know.

He took a swift glance at John’s hoodie- the one that was given to him- and kicked it into his closet. He slipped on another one, one that was dark green and looked surprisingly good on him. Alexander didn’t bother to hide his bags.

He slid on his backpack and quietly left for school. It would take a while to walk, around twenty minutes. He would arrive there just about 7:50, as he usually did.

Alexander didn’t bother to grab breakfast. He didn’t want anything to eat- that, and he didn’t think he could. 

Every footstep was a soft, quiet noise that hung in the frosty air. Alexander pulled on his gloves, flipping up his hood. It was cold outside, and there were frozen puddles lying around.

He was so tired. 

_ Tap. Tap. Tap. _

Alexander stepped over a crack on the sidewalk, attempting not to crush an already dead worm. He walked a little faster, the frozen scent of rain still hanging in the air.

_ Tap tap tap tap _

He couldn’t wait to get to school. Although he had two classes with John= he winced at the thought that he’d once looked forward to those classes- he could easily avoid him. After all, they had a seating chart, and John sat at least two desks away from him in most classes.

His eyes closed as he reached the school, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. Likely everyone had heard about him and John- the town was small enough for everybody to get bored quickly. That, and everyone knew about Henry Laurens, John’s father.

Alexander wished he wasn’t so widely stared at as he walked into the school, checking his phone. 7:53. He could make it.

Alexander went to his locker and grabbed his books for his classes, sliding them into his backpack. There was a brief pause as he shut the locker, eyes boring into his back. 

Whispers floated around him. 

For the briefest of seconds, Alexander was back in the Caribbean, his mouth clamped shut. 

It was as if he couldn’t hear, as if deaf wasn’t the only thing wrong with him. He hated it. So much.

Alexander went to his first class of the day, one with Lafayette. The man was already there, giving Alexander a concerned look as he opened the door. After all, cheating scandals were just something everybody could talk about, and god couldn’tsomeonejustkeepitprivateforonce-

His eyelashes flitted closed, and he sighed. 

“Mon ami, how are you feeling?” Lafayette was talking to him. 

“ _ As well as I can be with everyone talking about how John cheated on me. _ ” Alexander signed angrily, dumping his bag down at his desk. His throat ached- the single whisper he’d done yesterday hated him. Everything hated him. 

Alexander slumped into his seat, Lafayette’s fingers tapping a rhythm on his desk. “True, true. But, Alexander, look on the bright side! They aren’t talking about you being mute anymore.”

“ _ They’re always talking about that. I just can’t wait for this news to be old. _ ” Alexander stated, and stared at the clock. “ _ You should probably get back to your seat now. _ ”

“You’re right, as always. See you at lunch, petite lion.” 

<<<>>>

The classes with John he went to, but it was hard work avoiding John. Especially when, in one of the classes, the man sat in your row and was in the way to get too the front of the classroom.

In the other class, John sat three seats to the left. Alexander could work with that.

<<<>>>

January 11, 2020. 9 in the morning. 

“Alexander, wake up.” Washington shook him softly, giving him a smile. Alexander blinked, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Happy birthday!” Martha rushed in, grinning brightly at him. Alexander blinked again, his mind clearing. A smile crept onto his weary face. 

“ _ Does this mean I could have ice cream for breakfast? _ ” Alexander joked around. Washington sighed, leaning against the wall with a fond look adorning his face. 

“Fine. But your friends invited you out today, so be ready by 1. And be back before 7.” Washington said.

Alexander grinned up at Washington. “ _ Thanks dad- I mean-” _ He stopped signing out of pure awkwardness, the slightest of blushes on his face. Washington’s laugh filled the room.

“It’s alright, son.” Washington said, Martha glancing between them with a soft smile.

<<<>>>

Lafayette stared at his cell phone in horror, his hand going to hit the speaker. 

“Laf? Laf, you there?” A voice broke through the speaker on his phone.

Lafayette whispered a yes. Alexander stared quizzically at his friend, while Hercules froze at the next sentence. 

“As I was saying…” The voice trailed off, before starting again. “On Saturday, January 11, John Laurens was killed in a car accident. God, Lafayette, he’s been killed.” The voice was broken, and yet it continued. “Uhm- the car accident happened around 7 pm last night. He- he died 8:27 this morning.”

Alexander distinctly remembered the smell of the wind. The sky was bright blue, clouds passing over. It looked like a spring day, except the air was icy cold, stinging at his cheeks. Alexander rubbed his gloved hands together.

He glanced over at Lafayette, who was staring at his phone. His entire body seemed to sway back and forth, a hand going to cover his mouth.

“Lafayette?” Hercules questioned, his voice the smallest he’d ever heard it.

“Mon ami- Laurens, dieu il est mort sainte mère de dieu.” Lafayette whispered, his voice growing more panicked. “He died- what are we supposed to do?”

Alexander registered the situation. 

He couldn’t- god, He’d loved John still, he couldn’t bring himself-

“ _ You guys should go home. It’s already 6:44. I’ll be okay. _ ” Alexander stated. “ _ Herc, take care of Lafayette and yourself, okay? _ ”

He died.

Alexander headed back towards his house. He smiled as they sang happy birthday to him, laughed alongside his parents.

He cried as the night grew too dark for him to handle. 

Alexander had been stupid. He’d made the mistake of trusting John. He’d fallen in love with the curly-haired man, with the freckles that adorned his face. He adored the John whose face lit up, who’s grin seemed to make the sun shine.

Alexander had been stupid. Alexander Hamilton  _ wasn’t _ stupid.

<<<>>>

He stood at the grave, a purple flower in his hand. There was a soft rain falling down, soaking into Alexander’s green hoodie. It was April 7, 2020. 

He set the columbine in front of John’s grave, kneeling down with a small splash. 

_ Alexander stared into John’s hazel eyes, a laugh bubbling out of him. Nerves encased him as John grabbed Alexander’s hand in his own. John’s grin was entrancing, and Alexander found himself blushing slightly. _

He opened his mouth, and closed it. He had nothing to say.

_ “Wait up, Alex!” John ran towards him, his feet thumping loudly on the pavement. _

He pulled out the letters from his hoodie pocket. There were many, many letters. But Alexander merely brought the ones that he felt mattered most. There was two sky blue envelopes, and two grey ones.

He set them up against the gravestone, and dropped the final letter in front of John’s name.

It was carved into the stone. 

Alexander remembered all of the memories tainted with John’s memory, and the fact that he hadn’t been invited to the funeral. He couldn’t help but love John, although he’d been cheated on. 

Fuck, Alexander Hamilton was hopeless.

He opened his mouth to say something.

“You bastard.” Alexander rasped, his voice dry from misuse. He’d been using it more than usual lately, even attending speech therapy.

“You bastard, I haven’t had the chance to forgive you.”

What a strange thing, for it to be raining in January.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As some of you may know, this was originally an 80-page document on Google Docs. I've had a few editors work on this, and they know who they are, but I should thank them anyway. And thanks to readers who've kinda just stuck with this through all three times of publishing and then deleting it... Sorry about that.  
> There will be a sequel (Snowing in September) it's not published yet, as my computer decided to be a major jerk and delete ALL of my files on the parts of said sequel, so now I have to re-write everything. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading this, and have a nice day/night!


End file.
